Shadowed Guilt
by DeathIsOnStrike
Summary: In the heat of a moment House gets nasty, Chase unable to stand the agony anymore quits. House feeling more then slightly guilty goes to apologize, but what horrible secrets are Chase keeping? Violent happenings.
1. Duty Bound

Hi readers of House fanfiction...I've decided to write one and this is my first House fic btw. I got hooked after watching Mistake so not long ago, my sense of characterization sucks and I don't understand a thing about medicine so please correct me if I'm wrong about something. Also this is unbetaed and I'm frankly not that good at English the subject and the language...

Before Iforget I don't own House,it's characters, it's plot, etc. They all belong to the makers of House MD except maybe a few OC's that I have in here and this plot! Okay...maybe not true but a girl can dream can't she?

I don't think this will turn up any pairings at all and there is a poor attempt at a casefile...I have no idea where this story is going so bare with me.

I hope you like this first chapterand please review!

* * *

Shadowed Guilt: Chapter One Duty Bound

The screaming sirens penetrated the silent darkness of the night, the flashing red and yellow lights lit the streets and caused any car that was still out driving to pull over to the curve as the red ambulance shot pass. The young, blonde-haired Austrailian doctor had just fallen into bed, his own bed that he hadn't seen very much of over the last few weeks, and was dreaming happily of warm beaches and the soothing sun of the magical and sunny land called Austrailia before his phone gave an irratating and insistent ring. Dr Robert Chase rolled over and buried his head in his pillow, but he couldn't stand the ringing piercing into his skull, he could already feel a headache coming on. Chase felt tempted to smash the offending object against the wall, he felt tempted but he couldn't do it, so instead he went for the less stress releaving alternative.

His arm felt heavy as he felt around for the receiver of his phone and shivered at the touch of cold air outside his warm, cocoon of blankets. Chase felt something smooth and cool, he immediately lifted it up and was rewarded with soothing silence. However according to Newton's Third Law, was it Newton's Third Law? Chase couldn't remember through the sleep induced haze, but some law stated that for every action there was a reaction. The ringing phone had caused him to pick up the receiver, his motion of picking up the receiver had provoked the need of the other person on the other side to produce a very colourful litany of words. Chase groaned, the only person he knew that used that much swearing was House.

Chase imagined the scruffy doctor, kicking back with his both his legs (injured and normal) resting crossed comfortably on a table some feet away from where he was seated on a squishy armchair. A shot of scotch in one hand and the phone in the other, all the while enjoying waking Chase up at an ungodly hour. Chase tentatively held the phone closer to his ear, "...you get your ass back here before Cuddy decides to smother me with her luscious breasts. Then you'll really have a problem, who'll save all the patients from dieing from the disease called stupidity?" House took a breath.

"I'll be there, in..." Chase stared at the digital alarm clock, the red numbers swam blearily before his eyes finally they settled into something he could decipher, "Ten minutes."

He quickly hung up so he couldn't hear House badger him any farther, groaning loudly he heaved himself out of bed only to trip over a pile of books and crash to the floor. He laid there for a good minute or two before nearly drifting off again. However a thought screamed into his mind, 'Somebody is dieing! And they need your help!' That one thought had him bolting up from his tangled position on the floor and heading for a cold shower at a dead run.

Dashing up the stone steps, partially awake, Chase entered. His dark blonde hair was dishevelled and there were bags under those tired sea coloured eyes, it made him look slightly mad. Luckily the nurses and doctors milling around the reception desk was use to the sight of him popping up looking like some demented killer and didn't restrain him in the psychiatric ward, they nearly did one time. Damn House and his twisted sense of humour. Chase pinched the bridge of his nose and dashed towards the diagonostic conference room, there House was waiting looking grumpy and tired. As Chase watched House popped a small white pill into his mouth, "Well." House said swallowing it whole, "Get your lazy ass down to the ER and help Wilson settle the patient in."

Chase frowned looking utterly confused, "Dr Wilson is helping on this case?"

"Duh." House said, sipping out of his red coffee mug, he made a face, "What the hell is this?" he got up slowly, painfully and dumped it into the sink, "It's a cancer patient who just went down for the count. I told him I'd get you onto this. Now go. Shoo! Leave me be with my misery."

Chase slunk out of the conference room, if he had been a dog, his tail would probably be between his legs. He quickly exchanged his black coat for a light blue labcoat before hurrying down to the ER. He didn't know what to think about working with Wilson, ever since the whole Vogler mess, he had avoided Wilson as much as possible. Him being House's best friend and giving Chase disapproving glances everytime he saw him. Funny how he could be scared by such a little thing, he already felt guilty enough and was still waiting to be fired, but no House had to make him pay for what he had done by making him do grunt work.

A strong wave of antiseptic, urine, feces, and vomit reached his sensitvie nose. After all these years of working in the ICU, the OR, and the ER, you'd think Chase would've gotten use to the smell, but no, everytime he smelled it he just wanted to empty his stomach. He steeled himself and walked on, peeking behind curtains until he finally found Wilson behind one tapping his foot and staring off into space. Chase quietly slipped through and found his way blocked by one of the ER's gurney's, he found his eyes unwillingly drawn to the patient lying on it. The man's eyes were closed and he was hooked up to ventilator, a whistling sound came out everytime the man breathed. Chase immediately knew that that man had lung cancer and the machine was breathing for him. "About time." Wilson said dragging Chase's mind back to the subject at hand.

"Sorry." he smiled fakely, "Got held up."

'In what?' Chase questioned himself, 'In traffic? Yeah, like there would be rush hour at 3 in the morning.'

However Wilson dismissed his lame excuse with a wave of his hand, he picked up the patients chart and flipped through it, "Nigel Holt, 45 years old. His lung cancer got a hold of him once and for all. Both lungs are not functioning properly, his only hope is for someone to replace both his lungs." Wilson looked at Chase over the file, "Are you okay? You look kind of...pale."

Chase just smiled, "It's nothing, I'm fine." he scoffed to himself, 'Yeah right.'

"Anyways." Wilson said looking back down at the file, "We have yet to find the whereabouts of his family. We can't do anything until they get here and this guy is not up to giving his own medical opinion."

"Okay." Chase nodded and sighed gustiliy, "I'll take him down to ICU and settle him in."

"I appreciate this, Chase." Wilson said before leaving the ER in a hurry.

After most doctors were done their rotations in the ER when they were a residents, they would try to avoid it as often or as much as possible. One reason was probably the fact that this was the unsanitized, gory, death room in the whole hospitals. Sometimes the patients just died waiting to be looked at and it was the doctors and nurses job to ship them down to the morgue, although some doctors did prefer the morgue to the ER. Bright lights flashed everywhere, people were always in a hurry, patients just falling over dead. Yeah, Chase could see why most doctors avoided it as much as possible. But he being an intensivist was use to this kind of thing or so he thought.

Chase glanced behind him at the patient, it was better to call the patients 'patient' so you wouldn't be on a personal level on them when they went to a better life, one of the hands resting on the white bed sheet was twitching. Chase leaned closer to exam it and he caught a strong whiff of something that brought him forcefully back to a memory of his childhood, it was not exactly a very pleasant one.

_"Mum?" _

_A little boy of maybe only eleven asked to the cold, damp air of the enormous house he had just walked in. His normally pressed school uniform was now soaked due to the torrents of rain dumping itself on the earth. The boy smoothed back a lank of hair that was dangling in front of his face, he let his wet knapsack drop heavily to the floor, his books were probably soaked beyond recognition by now. He trudged forward, leaving watery footprints behind him even though he had already toed off his sopping shoes._ _Biting his lip he made his way slowly up the stairs and headed down the bare hallway to his mother's room._

_He gently pushed the door open, the door hinges squeaked nontheless. Gulping slightly, he peered in. She had once been beautiful, her honey coloured hair had hung in wavy curls instead of lanky clumps down her back. Her perfect pale skin was now crisscrossed with broken blood veins, the little boy had came to know them as the veins of a chronic drinker. Her normally blue eyes were now blurry and bloodshot. One perfect hand, grasped the neck of a bottle. More alcohol._

_And the smell, it was absolutely horrid. The bitter, sour stench of alcohol permeated through the room. Under it's cover were the usual stink of vomit, urine, feces and other not so pleasant things. The little boy ran to his mother and shook her, "Mum?"_

_Fear coursed through his veins, turning them to ice as his mother didn't respond. Desperation filled him as he called his estranged father, the very one who had left him and his mom in this giant dump not a year before. The little boy waited as the phone rang and rang, finally someone picked up, "Dad?"_

_A purr came through the line, "Sorry honey." a female voice sighed into his ear, "But your father is engaged in...activites that he can't take time from." the sound of laughter came through, "Try again some time later." the line went dead._

_Robert just stood there staring at the phone..._

Chase wrenched his thoughts back to the present, stuck out his head from behind the curtain and hailed a couple of nurses to help him with getting the patient to ICU.

Three weeks later and the patient wasn't getting better, in fact he got worse day after day. His blood type was so rare that only a couple people in the world had it and they weren't going to die soon for a sick man. Like most people, the patient's lung cancer was self-induced by smoking about 30 cigarettes a day since he was 20. Chase watched his health deteriorate and so did the man's friends. Once Mr Holt had slipped into a coma, his son (who was all the way across seas striking up a business deal) had sent a signed DNR. It nearly killed Chase to stand by and do nothing, Cameron was already badgering him to go against the signed DNR. However signed paperwork was signed paperwork and he was bound to it.

He found himself standing in the corner of the tiny, white hospital room. Glancing anywhere but the clock and the patient, his eyes landed on a fly buzzing lazily on the white ceiling. Chase's only thought were, 'It shouldn't be up there. This is a hospital and this is suppose to be a bug free room.'

Chase's watch ticked loudly in the silence, or was it only him hearing things? The machines had been turned off earlier and now the raspy, choking gasps were all that the patient did that indicated he was still alive. The monitors had been turned off, the anesthesia administered about roughly half an hour ago. Why wasn't the old man dieing? Suddenly, finally the patient's breath hitched and he was choking on his own saliva while desperately still trying to get a breath in. Chase closed his eyes as the man slowly choked to death, finally the terrible noise stopped. Chase cleared his throat, "Time of death." he checked his watch, "4:25 am..."

He bowed his head and left, he leaned against the sliding glass door for a moment, his stomach was in a turmoil and his breath was coming in short, choppy gasps. He finally found his cool, unshakable, doctor exterior and walked on. Although he did make a stop to the men's room and gave up the stale coffee he had ingested earlier in the day, before going and signing the death certificate, that was his duty. He could not stray from it.


	2. Faith

Hi people, I got bored after a bout of pointless science homework and wrote this. Not particulary long, but I have to brush up on some of the med notes I took from some website. Hopefully, next chapter will be out by Sunday or sometime next week.

**Blackrose Kitsune:** Thank you for reviewing I appreciate that and yes, it is kind of Chase centric although I plan on writting from different points of view. Hopefully I won't make House into that big of an ass...but you never know...

Review make me happy, hyper, and more readily to write. Okay just joshing ya but they do make me happy.

* * *

Shadowed Guilt: Chapter Two Faith

"Forgive me, Lord, for I have sinned." murmured Chase.

The little chapel in the hospital was freezing, the pearly grey rows of fake marble pews seemed imposing as Chase kneeled on the hard stone floor before the altar. He was hunched over so his bangs nearly touched the step that led to the altar, his hands were clenched before him. In one of them he clutched a rosary, he ran his thumb over the smooth, flawless black onyx beads. It had once belonged to his mother; she had been religious and devout up until she had found out that Rowan Chase was not only immersing himself in his work but with women also. Their marriage had lasted about four or five years after that before Rowan finally walked out. "Today...I watched a man die and I didn't help him." Chase said swallowing hard, it was true although there were some underlying factors that prevented him from saving the man's life. God didn't need to hear them, they were just excuses no matter how well you worded them or twisted them.

He didn't know how long he kneeled there asking for God's forgiveness, but long enough that when he finally got up, he nearly fell over from the loss of feeling in his knees and ankles. Limping slightly and hissing from the pain of feeling coming back to his legs, he collapsed on the first pew he reached. Suddenly he had the unpleasant feeling of being naked in front of fairly important people, he stared up at the serene face of the Virgin Mary. He couldn't explain it, but he felt as if she and whateverdieties out there were looking into his soul; prodding to see if his intentions were pure. Feeling uneasy Chase got up slowly and limped hurriedly to the back of the chapel and sat down. He didn't leave the chapel for he was on his break and he didn't want to risk seeing House limping after him and badgering him to do his clinic duty for him or something equally as unpleasant. See, to Chase grunt work wasn't the greatest activity on earth, but compared to listening to patients moan and groan over a small cold or something, he'd choose grunt work over it any day.

The feeling of uneasiness seemed to disappear into thin air at the change in Chase's seating, sighing he leaned forward once again and rested his forehead on the cool wood of the pew in frontof him. He rubbed his right leg, trying to get the circulation back faster. He had a raging headache brewing in his skull, he could feel it twisting and growing bigger. Chase was pretty sure this wasn't one of those headaches which disappear within hours, but one that would last all day long haunting him. He jumped as he heard the door to the chapel creak open, slowly and with a lot of fuss. He quickly stuffed the rosary into his coat pocket and pretended to look like he was taking a slight nap. Inside he was wondering who had breeched his privacy, he knew he didn't own the chapel or anything, but hardly anyone came up here. Chase was tempted to look, but then the person who was possibly hovering at the doorway would spot him and talk to him.

Nontheless he was spotted. Chase heard somebody's shoes, possibly high heels, striding towards him. He tilted his head to the left and grimaced as the footsteps echoed loudly through the chapel, hadn't the person ever learned to walk lightly or at least wear not so loud sounding shoes? Chase felt a shift in the air as somebody sat down beside him, waiting to be acknowledged. Judging from the whiff of the person's flowery shampoo smell and an undercurrent of perfume, he could tell it was Cameron. He glanced up at her pretty face as she stared at him, her dark locks fell foward slightly and she pushed them impatiently behind her ear. Chase turned his body towards her, but still didn't lift his head, he feared it would roll off if he did raise it. "Cameron." he said.

Cameron crossed one leg over the top of the other, "Chase, where have you been? House has been paging you for the last five minutes or so."

Where did she think he had been? In hell? Jesus Christ, Chase had turned off his pager since he was in the prescence of God, it would also pass as an excuse to not hear the annoying beep of his pager every thirty seconds. "Sorry, Cameron." Chase apologized softly as he lifted his upper body up with his arms, "I think I accidentally turned off my pager when I went on my break."

She gave a cluck that sounded very much like one of those pushy mothers trying to get their kid examined for something mediocre like the flu, "You know Chase, if something serious came about how would you help if you didn't know?"

Chase thought of something witty to say, but his brain was ready to explode and Cameron did have a point, "Hmph." he said as he laid his head back down on the back of the pew in front of them.

"Headache?" Cameron asked lowering her voice down to a whisper.

Chase nodded his head slowly, "It's a killer."

"I think I have something for it." she said softly and dug in her pockets, "Acetaminophen?"

He glanced at the white pill being offered and sighed with relief, "Thank you." he took it gently from her hand, avoiding as much contact as he could to her skin. He didn't know why but lately he had been jumpy of people touching him and him touching people, especially if they were awake and concious.

Chase stared at the pill for a moment before tipping back his head and swallowing the pill whole, it left a slightly chalky, dry aftertaste. He reminded himself to get a nice refreshing drink of possibly real tea later on in the day, water if he couldn't find a teabag of real tea and not the floral stuff that the americans served. Chase considered coffee, but it would probably be bad for his indigestion especially with the acetaminophen already dissolving in his stomach. He swore that he had lost at least a couple layers of stomach lining to the vile stuffever sincehe had started drinking it. He also had to put into consideration that House had the good stuff in his conference room and even that stuff was just glorified mud.

"Are you planning to leave?" Cameron asked right out of the blue.

Ever wonder how you can choke on nothing but spit? Chase wondered the very same thing as he choked and coughed loudly, "Who told you that?" he managed to gasp through the coughing and the pounding headache that was slightly easing off.

"I've been hearing some things." she said shrugging nonchantly.

"Well, you of all people, should know not to believe everything that you hear." Chase said.

It was probably not accurate, for he had been entertaining some ideas of leaving after his father had died. He didn't have anything to prove anymore, he was already at his wit's end for staying on with House for about a year and a half. If he understood correctly, he had been the first to stay with House the longest and he sympathized for the fellows before him, he now understood why they had left in such a hurry. However he still hadn't made up his mind, his two year fellowship was coming to an end within six months and he had a choice; to stay and employ somewhat permantly at Princeton Plainsboro Teaching Hospital, go back to Austrailia which held nothing much that Chase valued anymore, or employ somewhere entirely different altogether.

"You know Chase." Cameron continued not heeding Chase's words, "You, Foreman, and I make a team. We balance each other out, if somebody leaves, like when I left, we go insane and start in on each other. Think about it."

Chase remembered very clearly when Cameron had left, there had been a brief and slightly sad celebration of ridding themselves of her. Then Foreman had turned on him, sniffing at his lame diagnosis', glaring at him in disapproval and all around blaming him for the loss of a valuable hard co-worker. Foreman had, if possible, became more arrogant then ever during those days that Cameron was gone, believing himself superior because he hadn't been the one to get fired. When Cameron finally came back, Foreman's and Chase's relationship had never been the same and probably never would be. "Look Cameron." Chase said trying to be polite, "I don't know about you, but right now I'm not up to one of your 'It takes a village' pep talk."

Cameron nodded her head and fell silent. Chase sighed, "What's House paging me for?"

"He wants you to run some gels for the whole of the maternity wards." at Chase's horrified look she chuckled, "I'm kidding."

"Don't scare me like that." Chase said clutching his heart dramatically.

Cameron laughed brightly, it bounced through the room making it seem warmer. "We better go or he'll punish us by doing exactly that."

Chase sighed and got up slowly, stretching he followed Cameron out of the room. On the way out, he let the door sigh softly shutbefore padding softly after Cameron.


	3. Bet

Sorry bout the lateness, but I had decided some of it made House seem too insensitive so I rewrote it. Also I apologize for lack of sarcasm in this, but I have a homework induced headache right now so, this isn't exactlly my best effort...

**Sandy at Sea:** Thankz

**MoondustWolf: **Aw thankz and you're not the only one, I love Chase angst too, the more angst the better, as I say.

Plz review, it makes me happy.

* * *

Shadowed Guilt: Chapter Three Bet

Foreman walked into the diagnostic conference room, his nose was buried in a patient's file. He glanced up at the noise emanating from House's office, he went over and poked his head through the closed blinds and stared. House was doing a balancing act, his good leg was holding him up as he wiggled to accommodate the heavy books he was carrying in one hand. He was bent over, his cane in his book free hand and was trying to poke something closer. Foreman came in cautiously, "What are you doing?"

A book slowly slid off of the tall pile, Foreman dived for it and managed to catch it by the corner, "Well look at that, you made that book fall." House said with a fake pout.

All Foreman did was return the book to the stack, "Again, what do you think you're doing?"

"I was bored." House said with a grimace as he set the books down and leaned heavily against his desk catching his breath, "Now I have to pay Wilson."

"For what?" Foreman asked, completely lost.

House looked at Foreman as if he was crazy and not the other way around, "We had a bet, to see how long I could hold up five medical dictionaries. Wilson bet five minutes, I bet a half an hour. Damn it, he's closer."

House did a one eighty and started limping away. When House was about half way to the door Foreman remembered the reason why he was there at all. "House." he called.

Unfortunately for Foreman, House kept on moving causing Foreman to hustle after him. "Did you hear me?" Foreman demanded irritably.

"I did." House said still limping as fast as he could, "I just chose to ignore you."

Foreman rolled his eyes and sighed exasperatedly, "We have a new patient."

"I don't recall choosing this case." House said stopping, he stared wide eyed at Foreman, who almost walked right past him.

"You don't get to choose your cases you know." Foreman said, "Cuddy will have you...looked after...if you don't take the case."

"What am I? A child? I don't need looking after." House said with a scowl.

"Sometimes I'm not so sure." Foreman muttered under his breath.

"What was that?" House asked his sharp ears picking it up.

Foreman cleared his throat, "Fourty-Two year old, Latino male came in complaining of..." Foreman trailed off as he checked the file, "Fever, weight loss, and lesions on his arms and face."

"What's so interesting about that?" House asked waving the file away.

Foreman tried to answer as House peeked into an examination room, before barging rudely into one. Dr Wilson looked up startled, his brown hair fell into his eyes, he managed to blow it out of his. His hands were laid gently on some woman's breasts. Foreman instantly looked away, but House just limped forward. "What's this? Why Jimmy, are you cheating on your wife again?"

Realizing the embarrassing scene that House and Foreman was viewing, Wilson let his hands drop, "I'm with a patient, House."

"You mean you're doing a patient." House said hooking a wheelie chair from across the room with his cane, "You." he pointed an accusing finger at the woman, "Scram, it's time for our three-sum."

The woman huffed, buttoned up her blouse and left the exam room. "What?" House asked as he sat down.

"Why do you do that?" Wilson asked, folding his arms.

"Well my snarkiness is part of my make up, like DNA. It can't be cut off, I shudder to think what would happen if it was." House said loftily and laid back.

"No, I mean barging in on me when I'm with a patient." Wilson said also taking a seat.

"Aw, you know you love me." House said.

Foreman cleared his throat, he didn't like to be ignored. "House, can we get back to the patient?"

"No." House said finally acknowledging him, "But you can pay Wilson here for me."

"Why would I do that?" Foreman asked.

"You already forgot about the fact that you made me drop one of the books?"

"I didn't." Foreman protested.

House just glared at him and motioned for him to take out his wallet. Although Foreman's mind was unwilling, he found himself holding his wallet a minute later and handing over fifty bucks to Wilson. Foreman was disgruntled, how could the man get him to part with fifty bucks within a second? Foreman concluded that House must've read a book on hypnosis or was gifted with a natural persuasive manner. "Fine." Foreman said crossing his arms, "Now can we get back to the patient?"

"Let me think about it." a slight pause followed, "How about no?"

"How about you finally get fired?" Wilson piped in, removing his gloves and binning them.

"What for?" House asked with fake shock, "You'll lose one of the greatest minds in the world."

Wilson and Foreman arched an eyebrow, "Greatest mind in the world?" they both spluttered with laughter at the same time.

"I am." House sounded dangerously close to a petulant child.

"And I am the king of the world." Foreman managed to gasp out.

"They wouldn't accept you." House said sulking.

Foreman just choked on his laughter and thrusted the file at House, "Look if you get fired this isn't on me."

"Well why not?" House asked, "If I get fired, why can't you?"

"Because..." Foreman trailed off, "I tried persuading you, not my fault you're a stubborn bastard."

House thought about it, "True."

"Fine I'm leaving." Foreman said throwing up his arms and walking out of the exam room.

"So." Wilson said, "Are you gonna take it?"

"Yeah." House said looking at him like he was crazy, "As sure as the fact your socks are mismatched...again."

"What?" Wilson said looking down at his feet.

"You dressed in the dark again didn't you?" House prodded, "Didn't want to wake Julie up?"

Wilson gave him a firm glare, "I'd rather not talk about it."

Maybe House was having an off day or something because he didn't pursue the subject any longer, "I believe I'm losing my beloved snarkiness. Help me." House said.

Wilson snorted and brightened up considerably, "The world is coming to an end."

"Uh..."

"Hell is freezing over." Wilson joked.

"Okay, okay I get it. Stuff that stupid plaid tie into your mouth already." House said.

"The sun has finally exploded, in about eight seconds, we're all gonna fry."

House scowled and wrenched the exam room door open only to find himself face to face with the evil mistress herself, Dr Cuddy. She advanced on him a file in her hand, "House, I let you get away with a lot of things in this hospital."

"Apparently not enough." House mumbled to himself.

"I expect you to at least take the cases that I assign you and your team." Cuddy said, her eyes fiery with anger.

"What do I get in exchange?" House asked.

That stopped Cuddy for a heartbeat or two, she squeezed her temples like she had a vicious migraine and was trying to relieve the pain. "Take the damn case and we'll talk about no clinic duty for a week."

"Two." House bargained.

"One." Cuddy said firmly, "Take it or leave it. I'm sure Foreman will like taking your place for awhile."

House stared at her in horror, "Jesus lady you like playing hard ball don't you."

"If that is going to be one of your supposedly innocent comments that will turn into some devious sexual narrative, then no. Take the case, House and I'll give you a week off of clinic duty. That's it."

He put on a pout for some good measure and took the file reluctantly, or a copy of it. Christ, Cuddy was killing off trees just to get him to work, "I'm gonna tell mommy about you."

Cuddy gave a mock shiver, "I'm so afraid."

Faces were House's specialty and he showed his genius by making a particular scary one at Cuddy's retreating back. House limped to the elevator and pressed the arrow pointing up, "Doctor." a high falsetto said behind him.

House didn't turn into a hand forced him to look around, when he met the person face to face he shivered. "What do you want?"

They always say that you can stereotype something and it wouldn't be accurate, take a blonde for instance. They are considered ditzy, beautiful, annoying, and generally and most importantly, stupid. Whoever 'they' were, House made a mental note to write an article to prove them wrong. The woman standing before him was petite in size, barely reaching his shoulder and that was with about four inches of heel there. House envisioned her beautifully painted feet when she was old and decrepit, not a pretty picture he could tell you that. The long strands of blonde hair, which he was sure was bleached and dyed again, twisted down her back. Her eyes flashed a pretty periwinkle blue, but held the absent blankness of what could only be called stupidity. "Doctor." she tried again this time her voice was dripping with honey, "I understand you'll be taking my husband's case?"

'Damn it all.' House thought, 'And she has a nice rack too.'

"You could look at it that way." House said clearing his throat.

She smiled at him and put a perfectly manicured hand on his cheek, "Quite a tickler you got there, hon."

'Oh dear god, is she flirting with me.' House asked himself, the elevator dinged as it finally reached his floor, 'Saved by the bell.' he limped in. The blonde woman was left standing there, her hand resting uneasily at her side as if she was not sure what to do with it. As the elevator's doors closed, House mouthed, "Call me." He was serious, if her husband decided to crash on them before they even ever got his blood work then she should call him.


	4. Mystery

I got myself a beta, however I suddenly realised why I don't like them. No offense by the way, but I like updating as soon as I get the chapter done, not two or three days after. So...yeah... Obviously all mistakes mine, stupid commas.

**Firetop:** More is here.

**greendayfan1333:** Aw thanks. (blush blush)

Plz review, they make me feel all glowy.

* * *

Secret Whispers: Chapter Four Mystery

The door to the diagnostic conference room opened, creating a slight disturbance in the air. House was standing with his back to the door, his attention was mainly focused on the three main symptoms that graced the white board. They looked awfully lonely up there, House supposed that that was suppose to be good, since the patient wasn't suffering much, but it was also bad because about half the world's diseases could fit the description. House breathed in and took a lung full of the ink from the marker he used to write on the board, it had a slight nauseous scent to it, but he could understand why it was so addictive to some people. He twirled the thick marker in his hands, it didn't have the same effect as his cane, but it still got his brain going. A scuffling noise could be heard on the other side of the room as someone or some bodies pulled out the chairs so they could sit. "So." House said, finally speaking, "Differential diagnosis."

"Um... Shouldn't we wait for Chase?" Cameron for once in her lifetime, sounded uncertain. Okay, maybe more accurately today she sounded more insecure then usual.

House turned slowly and his eyebrows shot up, making his eyes bulge out and look wider, the lines on his brow deepened even more then usual. All in all he looked fairly scary, sometimes he even used it to scare off pesky little kids. "Probably hiding somewhere in his precious ICU." House grumbled to himself, "Well. Cameron page him again."

As Cameron obliged, House turned back to the board. "We'll start without him. Serves him right for not being here."

"Could be tuberculosis." Cameron piped in after a moment of silence.

House arched an eyebrow, "Does everything have to link to your beloved...what was his name...Charlie...Sebat-something or other?" but wrote it down nonetheless.

Cameron blushed such a lovely colour of pink that House decided he should put it on a shirt, "Dr Sebastian Charles is in Africa."

"Oh, so you still keep contact with him." House said, swinging his cane from side to side. It came in danger of hitting Foreman heavily in the shin.

"Of course." Cameron sniffed trying to gain some ground, "He has to fill his prescription, doesn't he?"

"Probably drops them down the drain or something. Little bugger, I admire his women hooking skills." House stage whispered to Foreman.

Foreman just rolled his eyes and looked back down at the article in some obscure medical journal. "Ahem." Cameron cleared her throat, "Chase isn't answering."

"What are they breeding these days?" House shook his head, "These new generation of wombats are so slow."

"He's not a wombat, he's a human." Cameron said, still slightly miffed at the fact House had brought up Sebastian.

"Ah, but his DNA got manipulated when he was younger. So he acts like a wombat, sleeps like a wombat, eats like a wombat, but his appearance is still human. Although..." House rested his head on his hand as if he was thinking deeply, "That would explain why he's so cute and cuddly. Of course I wouldn't want to cuddle with him, that would be just wrong, but I'm sure women with big breasts would."

Cameron stood up, "I'm going to go find him. You and Foreman can brainstorm without us for a little while."

As Cameron left, House turned to Foreman. "So." Foreman raised an eyebrow to indicate he was listening, "Did you steal all of my animal cookies again?"

Foreman snorted into his coffee, as he lifted it to take a drink, "Why would I steal them in the first place? They're filled with too much sugar, I'm surprised you don't gag on the sweetness."

"Aha." House pointed at him with an accusing finger, "You've stolen some before haven't you?"

Foreman couldn't help but roll his eyes, "No."

"Then how do you know what they taste like?" House inquired.

Foreman really didn't have an answer to that so he kept silent. The silence stretched uncomfortably as House stared or glared at Foreman, frankly he couldn't tell the difference. Then House's gaze was broken off as Cameron's laptop, which had been left sitting out in the open, indicated that a email had come through, Foreman sighed in relieve. House had that devious look on his face whenever he was going to do something very wrong. He sidled in the chair Cameron had vacated and checked her email, judging by the size of the grin on his face he had found something utterly amusing. "Hmm..." House said, "What should I write back?"

Foreman gave a disbelieving grunt, "You're going to risk bringing down upon us the wraith of Cameron?"

"Well." House turned to him, "She's more talk then bite. I'm more afraid of her whining then anything else."

"Exactly, why would you risk bringing down her whining upon us?"

House thought for a moment, "Take it as a spur of the moment thing." he turned back to the keyboard and started typing, "Dear Pookie...No, no, no that doesn't sound right hm... My Dearest Mushroom. Much better. I am afraid to tell you that I have met another that is way more cuter then your tush powdered ass-"

"You're not really putting that, are you?" Foreman asked coming over to peek over House's shoulder.

"Well why not?" House asked, "I bet she's been an unfaithful little housewife."

"They're not exactly married." Foreman pointed out.

House gave him a look that was only reserved for the densest of people, of course House used it quite often, "Not legally, but you never know. Maybe they had some weird...Las Vegas one night stand leading to a wedding thing."

"Doubtful. She would've told everybody by now."

"Mhmmmm, how long has she been gone." House asked as he typed more of the very mushy letter detailing Cameron had fallen in love with someone else and she was terribly sorry.

Foreman glanced at the clock, "About five minutes."

"Great." House said and clicked Send, "Now she'll never know, until the little bastard sends an email back telling her his heart is broken in two and whatever poetry nonsense he has up his sleeve." he quickly deleted the original message from her email account and smiled triumphantly.

"You're just mean." Foreman said lamely.

House scoffed at him, "You just had me move down a couple of levels." at Foreman's questioning look, House continued, "See I use to be a jerk, then I graduated to moronic idiot, then stupid old bastard, now you just had me moved down to just plain mean. Am I doing something wrong here?"

Foreman shook his head weakly as Cameron came in with Chase trailing in her wake. Unlike Cameron who looked fresh from a solid six hour, Chase looked tired and completely and literally dead on his feet. House had noticed ever since he had blew up at Chase that one time, Chase had taken to wearing dark colours that actually blended in with each other. House had decided that it was a part of his trying not to stand out plan, it almost worked. At least House didn't feel like his eyes were burning out anymore, however with hair like that, how could he not be noticed?

"Had sex with a beautiful co-worker again?" House jibed as he took his yo-yo from his pocket and practiced his walk the dog.

Chase just stared dumbly at him, "No." it was dragged out and slurred with that infamous Australian accent of his.

House stared at him, surprised, usually Chase would have come up with a flippant remark or give him the pathetic imitation of House's own death glare. He frowned and stared long and hard at Chase's eyes. They were a greyish-green, House was disconcerted by this, usually Chase's eyes were a bright and clear crystal blue. Chase looked away, uncomfortable, at House's scrutiny. House placed that little piece of the puzzle into the corner of his mind where he had labeled it, The Puzzle Called Chase, cheesy, but it would do. House turned, "So what do we know about this guy."

"Not much." Cameron said looking over the file, "Hey, medical history is missing."

"Really? Foreman, don't tell me. You didn't do one." House stated more then questioned.

Foreman looked annoyed, "Of course I didn't, the nurse said she already did."

"Well apparently not." House snatched the file away from Cameron, "Everybody lies. Foreman go do it."

"But I thought that was Cameron's job." Foreman complained.

"Nah, I just feel like favouring the whitey people today." House said sarcastically, "Besides, I don't want a huge essay on this guy's life."

"Why can't Chase do it then?"

Chase started to protest, but House cut in, "Because I told you to do it."

"Fine." Foreman grabbed his lab coat and strode out of the room, letting the glass door slam shut. House winced and thought it was a miracle it didn't break.

"Cameron you go do his blood work and a full tox screen for now. When we know a little bit more of him, we'll know what to do."

Cameron nodded, packed up her laptop and left. Chase fidgeted with his pen and gnawed on it, "What do you want me to do?"

"I want you to..." House trailed off as Chase's pager went off.

He smiled apologetically and ran off. House sighed and sat, how was he suppose to figure Chase out if the wombat wouldn't stay in one place for more then a few minutes, especially in the same room as House? He glanced at the clock and limped off into his office next door through the greyish-white blinds, he had an episode of General Hospital to catch.


	5. Logic

I suddenly realised that I was naming this story after the CSI one I wrote...and I just caught it too. So if anyone was confused by the naming of Ch 4 (I'm not entirely sure I changed it or not) I'm not mixing up stories,I swear.

Anywhoo, I got some tests to study for and the Kiwanis Festival is practically at my heels now so I'm not sure how quick I can get the next one out.Hopefully soon.

**felixgirl:**lol, I'm writing as fast as I can. And yes, they are very lonely, so here is a super long chapter (for me to write anyways) for now.

**DestroyerOdyssey:** Aw, thankyou and I'mtyping as fast as my brain and fingers can allow me.

Review plz and enjoy.

* * *

Shadowed Guilt: Chapter Five Logic

Chase padded down the hallway, his strides ate up the ground, although he seemed to be relaxed and calm. He had learned how to appear laid back even though somebody might be dying that very second. It was so he wouldn't alert and frighten the scared families even more then they needed to be. Chase learned long ago, if families thought their husband, child, cousin, or whatever was dying; they would more likely pester you with questions and get in your way then letting you do your job, which was saving the lives of their beloved ones. He took a sharp turn to the left and popped his head into the room, ready to dash in if he was needed. Instead he found one of his co-workers, tapping a vile of blood, he came in slowly. The patient who was a young girl in her teens was drawing with a black felt tipped marker, she seemed safe enough.

Chase turned to his dark-haired co-worker. Her name was Dr Elena Joaquin, she was tall and willowy with a touch of hispanic blood, she had at least a quarter of an inch on him, her face was more handsome then pretty, her hair was twisted in a severe knot at the nape of her neck. She was a fellow intensivist too and had twenty years on him, what amazed Chase the most about her was not her wit, her habits, or even her adeptness at the job. But that she had time for a family, she had two teenaged sons and a ten year old daughter, whom Chase had all met. Her husband was a great cook and they loved each other to no end, Chase had found out one evening when spending time at their house. It wasn't intentional or anything, but Elena in contrast to her husband was a horrible cook and Chase had managed to save their turkey dinner. In return he had been part of a family for a few hours, it was a wondrous feeling, something he had been missing his whole life.

"Problem?" he asked Elena.

She looked up, "Not really, just need you for a consult. Come." she motioned for him to follow her.

As they headed down to the labs, Elena filled him in, "Her name is Faith Hartwood."

"Sounds like something out of the old fairytale book." Chase commented absently.

"Yeah, anyways she's fourteen. Hasn't started her menstrual cycle yet and she had elevated levels of estrogen in her system. Very high levels, nearing the dangerous point."

"Trying to get bigger breasts?" Chase asked.

"Possibly." Elena shrugged, "She's not saying anything to me or her parents. I don't think her parents even know she's ingesting estrogen."

"Well, with these kinds of things. Who would want to talk about it?"

"You're right. Anyways her parents, who seems way too over protective of her, brought her in because they claimed..." she checked the patient chart, "She has a big lump on her pelvic region. I checked her ovaries, biopsied them and I need a consult because I'm not sure what I'm seeing is what I'm seeing."

Chase raised an eyebrow, "Well that's a first." he said as he pushed the glass door to the lab open for Elena.

"Come." she motioned for him to come closer and take a look down the microscope.

What he saw definitely amazed him, "But that's a-a-"

"Testes." Elena said, "Now I know I'm not going crazy. I'll get Wilson...no wait he's off today...I think..." she trailed off unsure.

"So does this mean...she's a hermaphrodite?" Chase asked.

"I guess it would. I'll call the oncology department and they can take it from here." Elena stretched and loosening her elegant knot. She shook the hair free and walked to the door, "Off shift. Wohoo!"

Chase smiled. There was something about Elena, maybe it was her stern but childish behaviour, or her ability to switch from doctor to caring friend in an instant, but it made him feel all glowy inside. She brought his lunch and dinner for him, knowing Chase would forget every other day or so. He bent back down in disbelief after she left, but sure enough it was a sample of a testis and a possible growth invading the original cell make up. Chase straightened and walked to the door and jumped back as Elena poked her head back in, "Oh and try talking to Faith about this estrogen problem."

"But..." Chase started to protest, but she was already gone.

Chase sighed and resigned himself for some seriously weird feminine issue talk. He slouched back up the many flights of stairs leading from the labs to Faith's room, he could've taken the elevator. But House was probably already heading home for the day and Chase didn't want to be stuck in an enclosed space with him however briefly. House had been unbearable lately, not just with the work load but with his prodding. If Chase had to describe House in a word or two, he'd say 'Puzzle-solver'. He supposed that's what House was trying to do, solve him or break him, then fire him. Unless a miracle happened Chase doubted he would be here at PPTH long.

He stopped in front of Faith's room and took a deep breath. He didn't know what to expect, maybe a lot of outraged shrieking and being called a pervert. Chase sure wasn't a woman, even though some people would consider him a pretty boy. He smiled ruefully at that, wait until the fans got a load of his ribcage. He hadn't been eating right for some months now and he guessed he had gotten to a point where his body was now feeding on whatever fatty tissue it could find. It wasn't as if he didn't eat, it's just that he never felt hungry anymore. If he did, his hunger would twist into something worse, say fear or guilt.

Then Chase's tired mind switched back to what he was thinking earlier. He wondered if he could make House believe something that wasn't the truth. That's what Chase was. False. A liar. A person with so many personas that he found himself more like a actor then anything else, an actor stuck in a stupid never ending movie. An imitator. Chase caught himself as he started rubbing his neck like Wilson does and with some difficulty placed his hands in his pockets. Chase wondered drearily if he could still manage to find his true image, his true self. Chase snorted and shook his head. Of course he could, whatever he became he'll still be able to find his center again. It wasn't that difficult, he'd never lose himself like his mother. But little did he know...

Realizing he was standing there staring at the room number like an idiot, Chase finally entered. The young girl looked up momentarily, then dismissed him entirely before returning to whatever she was drawing. Chase came in further into the room, "What are you drawing?"

Faith stiffened before deeming it was okay to talk to Chase, "Oh nothing special."

"Can I take a look?" Chase asked.

His mother had been a one-time artist. Some of her talent must have rubbed off on him, he didn't think his art work was particularly good, hell he didn't think anything he did was particularly good, but he had a good eye. Faith stared at him, trying to contemplate his moves, it wasn't everyday you met up with a doctor that cared about what you were doing outside of medical facts. Finally she did a nod/shrug combination, "Sure."

Chase slowly turned the sketchbook towards him, the comic or a collaboration of drawn pictures were half inked. The pencil lines wispy and light as they suggested the general shapes of the object. It depicted a young girl that looked remarkably like the one sitting in front of him. However she was dressed in a outfit that was sure to defy all laws of gravity. His eyes traveled through the page, "This is good." he remarked.

Faith immediately flipped it over, nearly giving Chase a paper cut on his nose, "It's nothing." she sniffed, "It's stupid." she corrected.

"What? No." Chase said and sat on the edge of her bed, "It's much better then what I could draw."

She gave a shaky laugh, "Right. Whatever. Just get whatever you were here for over and done with, I don't want all this chit-chat."

Chase looked down at her hands and noticed angry red lines crisscrossing almost brutally over her pale skin, "You cut yourself?"

Hiding her forearms under the thin hospital issued blanket, she gave him a glare. "What? It's not like you haven't seen scars before."

He averted his eyes, "No, I was just wondering why such a talented girl like you would cut yourself up like that."

A side-glance was thrown in his direction, "Everybody has a boyfriend but me. I'm a freak. Besides it doesn't hurt, in fact it's interesting." the last part she mumbled so softly that Chase didn't comprehend the full effect of the sentence.

Eyebrows furrowed instantly, "How are you a freak?"

"I'm flat as a board." she said.

"Everybody's pregnant at your school?" Chase asked, he was totally freaked out.

A giggle escaped from her lips, "No, silly. I don't have any boobs."

He mentally berated himself for being so stupid, but that was probably due to the lack of sleep he had been getting lately. "Is that why you're taking so much estrogen?"

The slight grin slid off her face, "Did you tell my parents?"

"No. I probably won't either, but I need to tell you. Taking that much estrogen is dangerous."

She scoffed, "Oh come on. My friend took some birth control pills and in no time she had stripper boobs and a handsome boyfriend."

An inelegant snort issued from Chase's nostrils, "If it makes you feel better, I didn't date until university."

She stared at him, "I don't believe you."  
"Believe it or not, it's true. I didn't have time for all the fun things in high school and I barely did in university and afterwards." Chase said.

"But you're so..." she trailed off.

"So what?" Chase asked his interest getting the better of him.

"Pretty." she blushed a deep, crimson red.

He stood up, mouth gaping and he spluttered, "What?"

"I'm sorry." she said and buried her face in her hands.

Wilson walked through the halls of the crowded ICU wing, he hastily pulled on his lab coat. He felt cold, just cold. Wilson didn't know why, it wasn't the physical cold you felt when you got a sudden chill from a nearby open window, but a mental one. A sense of foreboding accompanied it, but he just shook it from his mind. It was nothing to worry about, he had felt the same way after he had found Julie rolling around naked in bed with another man. No doubt, she was cheating again. They were still going through the motions of a messy divorce and so far Julie had the jury swayed onto her side. A lonely housewife with a negligent husband who was never at home and was probably cheating on her also. All of these accusations had been untrue, well at least the cheating part. Wilson may have been a womanizer, but he didn't jump into bed with them ever chance he got.

"Wilson." An exaggerated stage whisper came from behind a large, fake tree standing in a corner.

He turned with a frown, House stepped out from behind the tree. "What are you doing?" Wilson asked.

"Hiding. What else." House motioned for them to continue on their way.

"Hiding." Wilson repeated, "From what or whom?"

"Cuddy." House said and peeked around the corner.

"Why?" Wilson asked, "You don't have clinic duty or anything."

"Well I'm suppose to be diagnosing this guy who's wife is a complete bimbo. Her name's Bambi. Who the hell in their right mind names their kid Bambi?" House asked, "I need your advice."

"You what?" Wilson asked completely dazed. House asking for advice was like a miracle.

"Advice." House muttered darkly, "Are your ears not working?"

"They're fine." he answered, "However I am completely and totally shocked that you would ask poor little clueless Jimmy for advice."

"No, actually Chase is the poor wittle wombat. You're just Womanizing Wilson."

At Wilson's mock glare, House's lips twitched. "Well are you going to help me or not?" House asked.

"Fine. I'll help, as long as it has nothing to do with making diabolical plans, stupid stunts, or some plan to steal Cuddy's underwear."

"I already know what her underwear looks like." House said, reaching into his pockets.

Wilson immediately snatched the orange bottle of white pills out of House's hands and pocketed them himself, "Hey." House whined, "What was that for?"

"You need to get off of those. They're ruining your liver." Wilson said.

"I know that, but it doesn't stop me from taking them." House said and produced yet another bottle from his seemingly bottomless pockets.

Wilson sighed and gave it up momentarily as a lost cause. House dry swallowed two of them before finding a bench and sitting awkwardly on it, Wilson followed suit. "I want to know how I can get Chase to talk to me."

"You already do." Wilson glanced at him.

"No I mean Talk, with a capital 'T'." House said.

"And you want to...why?" Wilson asked curiously.

House shrugged, "I just like puzzles. I think the little wombat's spidey senses are overworked, because every time I try to get him alone he gets paged away to the ICU, the ER, or the OR. It's a conspiracy I'm telling you. I think these all these intensivists know how to communicate mind to mind, so when one wombat is in trouble the other wombats pitch in and help."

"So you're naming all intensivits wombats now?" Wilson asked faintly amused.

"Just go with it for now. In my spare time I'll think up a better name for them. Chase is our only exotic wombat on this side of the ocean."

Wilson just cocked an eyebrow, "Well if you're that desperate to talk to Chase and ruin your ego by asking for advice. Then I might help you."

"Stop joshing and answer the question." House said, scowling.

"Well stalk him outside of work."

"Why, Jimmy. I didn't know you had these kinds of pastimes."

"I'm not the one that's probably gonna do it." Wilson rationalized.

"True." House mused, "Can't jump him in the hospital, jump him at his home."

"I'm totally surprised you didn't come up with it yourself." Wilson said loftily.

"Well here's the problem, Jimmy. He's in hibernation when he gets into his den or doing something that involves people having crazy delusions of me running after him on my bum leg."

"Oh." Wilson stayed quiet for a minute, "Well I have no idea then. If you'll leave I'll get back to my patients."

As Wilson got up, House followed him. "I'm sticking by you for the rest of the day. You sprout the weirdest things to get me off of your back, maybe this time they'll be helpful."

Wilson only sighed, there was no arguing with House. "Fine, but don't make stupid comments every five seconds."

"But, Jimmy, that's my job."

Shaking his head, Wilson shouldered the door out of the way to find two very red people. Chase who was standing on the other side of the room started and hurriedly tried to run out the door. However House's vice like grip caught him by the elbow, "Caught in the act with a minor?" he asked amused with just the right touch of disgust.

Chase automatically paled, he couldn't tell that House was joking. "I uh-uh n-no." he managed to stutter.

House's eyebrow twitched and he tightened his grip further, "We need to talk." and proceeded to drag the scared wombat out of the room.

Wilson turned to the blonde haired fourteen year old girl who had a look of horror and a fading blush on her face. "Don't tell me anything."

"Well that's a first." she said.

"For what?" Wilson asked and pushed the wheelchair over and motioned for her to sit on it.

"You're not in my face with about what happened minutes before you guys walked in." she said as Wilson wheeled her out.

"Trust me, it's better I don't know. That other guy would've got it out of me faster then you can melt butter. And the twisted up version of the story would be out all through the whole hospital within an hour."

"I like your logic, Dr Wilson." she said giving his name tag a quick glance.

"Why thank you, Faith, I like to think of myself as a very logical man."


	6. Sorry

Kiwanis festival done, broke and luving life.

**greendayfan1333:** Glad you liked it and another chapter.

**xDetBensonx:** You're wish is granted.

**Firetop:** Glad you liked itand no problem.

**Death-Muncher:** Thankz for liking it and thankz for that encouraging thought. I'm updating.

**felixgirl:** Glad you liked it and yes I'm spreading the Chase love. I've only caught a few episodes of the first season (started watching when the showed 'The Mistake') but I think the House from first season differs greatly from House in second season. But then again the writer's in all their brilliance have weird continuities for example House's house/apartment thingy (He doesn't live in the same place twice, I swear) And more is on the way.

Anywhoo got such a glow when I got so many reviews, keep them coming. Bon appetite.

* * *

Shadowed Guilt: Chapter Six Sorry

House dragged Chase into the nearest men's bathroom. He was surprised he could do it at all, considering he was a cripple and all. But then he had to factor in the lack of resistance due to the fact that he had whacked Chase in the shin when he tried to struggle away. House checked if the coast was clear then pushed Chase into the handicapped bathroom stall, House turned and locked them in before leaning back on to the stall door. So if Chase had any crazy ideas to escape, he'd find it very hard to do so. Chase backed into the corner, rubbing his sore arm and looking for all the world a scared, cornered animal. "Wh-what do you want?"

"Well now." House looked very smug, "The wombat speaks."

Often House would've received a glare from Chase but this time, nothing. Just a nervous glance as if Chase didn't know what was going to happen. House started getting a sense of deja vu as the silence stretched on. Now that House had Chase all to himself, his brilliant mind abandoned him, he didn't know how to start the conversation and Chase sure as hell didn't want to. "So." Silence.

"Um." Chase ran damp hands over his slacks, "You started diagnosing that guy yet?"

"I didn't pull you in here to talk about some moronic patient." House sniffed.

"Then what?"

If it was physically possible, Chase was shrinking before House's eyes. House jabbed his cane at Chase and stopped it a mere millimeter from his nose. That stopped Chase from sliding any further down the beige coloured wall. However he could neither move up or down unless he wanted to break his nose and so was stuck in an uncomfortable position halfway up/down the wall. "I think it's time to talk. With a capital T." Oh how House despised that word, he didn't 'Talk,' he ran/limped as fast as he could as soon as he heard the T word. However he thought it was time for an exception.

"T-talk about what?" Chase was stuttering and his accent was growing thicker with panic.

"You know, if you don't calm down you're going to give yourself a heart attack. Then I'll have to save you or I'll be charged with negligent homicide. If I choose not to then prison is going to be very uncomfortable with a bum leg and all. Maybe they have a special room for cripples or maybe I'll plead temporary insanity and be locked into a padded cell. I always wanted to know how that felt."

To House's credit, Chase concentrated on his breathing instead of protesting that he was stuck in a bathroom stall with his boss. House maneuvered himself so he could lean on his good leg, but still glare at Chase's hyperventilating form. Chase looked defeated if anything, his hair hung in front of his eyes and they swayed every time he took a deep breath in and out. "I need a pair of scissors." House said offhandedly. Chase choked on the air, "Don't worry I don't have thoughts to castrate you and leave you lying here bleeding to death."

That seemed to slightly reassure Chase. House wondered why he was taking the long road to the actual subject he wanted to talk about, he buckled down, "How are you feeling?"

"What do you mean, how am I feeling?" Chase asked, "I'm fine. As always."

"Uh-uh. Liar, liar pants on fire. You took only a week off to go to your daddy's funeral and visit the rest of your family. Only a week, if it were me I would've taken the whole month off. Why didn't you Chase? Cuddy offered you a whole month off and you only took a week."

Chase exhaled in disbelief, "You pulled me in here to talk about why I only took a week off to go to Melbourne for my dad's funeral? It doesn't take that long to host a funeral or a memorial you know."

'Damn, damn, damn.' that was how House's inner monologue was going.

"You know what House, go screw yourself with your cane. Maybe that'll push the stick that's already up your ass into your brain so you won't have to bother me anymore."

House raised an eyebrow, 'Ohhhh angry wombat. Interesting.'

"Just leave me alone." Chase said pushing House aside and strode out of the bathroom.

"Nice going, Greg." House muttered to himself before following Chase out of the bathroom.

Dr Joaquin gave a nod to Wilson and Faith as she went past. "Good night." she smiled.

"Good night." Wilson and Faith said together.

Elena scarved her neck and pushed her way out of the quiet hospital. It wasn't exactly dark yet, about late afternoon to the beginning of the night, the twilight zone. The sinking sun stained the ground a blood red, Elena took a deep breath of cooling autumn air and watched the leaves dancing in the sky above her head. Autumn was her favourite time of the year, where the earth went to rest and the weather teetered on the thin line leading to a cold winter. There were no bugs to bite her if she decided to wear perfume and the birds chirped noisily as they made ready to fly south. She looked up as the formation of geese honked noisily as they flew south for winter. In that one moment life was perfect.

She took out her car keys and started walking to her customary parking spot before she remembered that her car had broken down and was being fixed at a nearby auto shop. She stared down at her fashionable yet uncomfortable heels. Her feet was already hurting from spending twelve hours in them and she vowed never again will she wear them when she worked. In her head she filed a reminder away, 'Bring comfortable change of shoes tomorrow.'

The wind sent a gentle puff of air in her direction, she held her skirt down before it could flare and show her cherry red underwear. 'I must look like Marilyn Monroe right now.' Elena thought wryly.

After the slight breeze was gone she continued her hike to the auto shop. She started humming a song one of her patients had been singing earlier, it had quite a catchy tune to it. Elena knew she had heard that song somewhere before, but she just couldn't put a finger on it and it was driving her crazy. Maybe her husband would know it, he was crazy about music old and new after all.

Elena was so deep in her thoughts that she nearly walked past the auto shop altogether. She stopped and stared at the auto shop on the other side of the street, it was spray-painted on one side by a graffiti artist. It was done in bright and garish colours and the people looked too short and entirely too fat. A smile found its way onto her face, she glanced down both ends of the street and prepared to cross.

Halfway across she dropped her keys that she was still holding from earlier, chiding herself she bent down to retrieve them. As if by some trick of fate, car tires screeched from the gathering darkness, horn honking loudly. Elena remained frozen, a deer caught in the headlights as the car impacted with her willowy body which was still bent. The pain was indescribable and stars shot into her line of vision. She was doing the equivalent of flying, but sooner then later she hit the pavement hard. Pain shot from her brain to her legs, she was thankful that the darkness enclosed her mind shutting her off from the pain. But not before feeling the unpleasant wetness leaking from her face.

Chase was the equivalent of a hurricane coming through the ER as he helped interns and residents when they needed it. It was a busy night, apparently some idiot had started a bar fight which landed ten people with superficial cuts and bruises and three with serious injuries. He tiredly directed a couple of nurses to the nearest available OR and turned around to sign for an angiogram. Apparently the resident doctors were worried that the guy had thrown a clot. "Dr Chase?" a timid red head asked.

"Yes?" Chase asked exhausted.

"I think you should see this." she tugged his sleeve like a puppy would tug your pant leg when they wanted to go for a walk.

"Not right now." Chase said, "Get this man a morphine drip please." he shouted to a nearby nurse.

"No, I think you really need to see this." she persisted.

"I'm sorry, Dr Stevens. But I have a man that is probably bleeding out from-"

For a tiny thing that stood just under 5'5" she had a lot more strength then she should. Dr Stevens forcibly grabbed his arm and pulled him like an owner would with a stubborn mule. Chase sighed and directed a resident to take over, she led him outside. "What's this about?" Chase asked, "I have patients dieing in there."

She shushed him as a screaming ambulance rushed towards them, parking violently, two paramedics jumped out. "Forty-seven year old woman, mixed race, hit by a car."

Chase and Stevens rushed forward, when he got a look at the woman's broken and battered face he nearly backed off in horror. No it couldn't be true, but it was the cold hard fact. Elena was now his patient, he never thought this day would come and he had hoped it never would. The woman was as healthy as a horse and took pains to keep herself that way. Chase immediately blanked his mind and took on his cool doctor persona. It did Elena no good if he couldn't function properly, he shouted orders to a nearby resident to get him a morphine drip. He immediately jammed the ear buds of his stethoscope into his ears as he speed walked with the gurney. He gently eased a piece of bloody clothing away from her body and handed it to an attending nurse who dropped it into a biohazard bin. Another nurse rushed in with an IV drip and some cloths and a bin of water. "I need a ventilator. There's decreased left lung function." he shouted.

In a matter of moments a ventilator was wheeled in, he dropped his stethoscope onto the already bloodied gurney and grabbed a tube. He gently forced it down Elena's throat, he hurried attached her to the ventilator. "Oh my god. She's crashing." Dr Stevens said.

"Code blue." Chase hollered over his shoulder.

But even as he shouted it, the heart monitor flat lined. "Tabernouche. (Damn.)" he muttered, "Paddles!"

A nurse handed them to him and squirted the conductive gel onto the bottom side of them, Dr Stevens moved Elena's cherry red bra aside. "Charging." he said.

"Two hundred joules." a nurse said behind him.

"Clear." Chase shouted as a precaution as he pressed down and shocked Elena.

"Nothing."

"Charging. Three hundred joules."

"Nothing."

"Charging. Three hundred sixty joules."

The ominous shrill of the heart monitor indicated that Elena's heart was still not beating. Everybody froze, Chase dropped the paddles back onto the crash cart. "Time of death, 10:35 pm." Dr Stevens announced quietly.

Chase leaned with both hands on the edge of Elena's bed, his head bowed down in grief. The adrenaline rush that had invaded their bodies while they tried to save Elena rushed out of them like a waterfall. It was almost tangible. The death of one of their fellow co-workers hit them full force. Some rushed off with tears in their eyes, others wandered blank eyed away, yet others dealt with the loss in their own way. Chase just leaned numbly over Elena's lifeless body, he was the only one left in the curtained off area. His body shuddered as he tried to suppress the sobs rising up ready to choke him, "I'm so sorry, Elena."

Chase rested a hand on the door knob, he called the Joaquin's to tell them that their loving mother/wife was dead. They had insisted on coming. He braced himself, he didn't know why but he expected to be yelled at, he always did. But when he opened the door he found himself engulfed in Mr Joaquin's arms and those of his children. Chase hugged them tentatively back, his head rested on Mr Joaquin's shoulder. "I'm sorry. I should've done more."

The embrace tightened, "No need to apologize, son." Chase widened at the last word, "There was nothing you could do. If there is anybody to blame. Blame the drunken driver of that car."

Chase didn't know how long he stood in there embrace, but the dreaded voice belonging to House sounded behind them. "Aw, how touching."

He let go reluctantly, Mr Joaquin patted his shoulder his eyes dark, serious, and just a little teary. "You take care of yourself. Come by the house sometimes." he smiled wistfully, "I'll cook dinner."

A corner of Chase's mouth twitched and he smiled sadly, "You'll see me at the funeral."

"Thank you for your kindness and hard work."

As Mr Joaquin ushered his family out, his ten year old daughter hung back. In her hands she held up a flower made out of globs of glue and felt material, Chase kneeled before her. She gave him a hug and handed him the flower, "Thank you."

He clutched it in one hand and watched the Joaquin's make their slow way out of the hospital. Chase gracefully spun around to face House, "What do you want?"

House seemed unaware that this was a sensitive time, "Diagnostic session."

Chase pushed past him, "I'm sorry, but I have a death certificate still to sign."

Which wasn't entirely true, but he couldn't stand being near House right now. House just stood leaning against the doorframe watching Chase's retreating back, he slowly limped off to the diagnostic conference room and filed this little tidbit of information for later use.


	7. Grief

Happy April Fool's Day! Prank anyone yet? Better hurry up.

**felixgirl:** I share your view, lol.

**isheebishee:** (Pat pat)

**greendayfan1333:** Continuing. And I share your views, my mind is totally random.

**blasphamy6669:** Updating soon!

**Rubix-Complex:** (Hands you a tissue) I have a thing for torturing the cute guys.

Please review and have fun reading.

* * *

Shadowed Guilt: Chapter Seven Grief

Chase shivered from exhaustion as he gave the caffeine vending machine his dollar and waited for it to pour his cappuccino out. Taking the overly hot cup he blew gently on it as he waited for it to cool so he wouldn't burn his tongue. He turned and found himself face to face with the scowling face of Cuddy, "Dr Cuddy." Chase greeted and put out a hand out to catch himself from falling over and splitting his head open.

"Chase, how long have you been here?"

"Um...a year, seven months, and two weeks. Give or take a couple of days."

Cuddy gave him a glare, "You know that's not what I meant."

"Er..."

She held up the sign in sheet and waved it into his face, "You've been here for a day and a half nonstop."

Uh-oh here it comes, 'The tired doctors make mistakes and the hospital gets sued lecture.' Sure enough he wasn't disappointed, "Doctors aren't allowed to work this many hours. You know why? Because doctors get tired and tired doctors make mistakes. Then we get sued for malpractice and if we get sued we won't have money to fund this hospital. If we have no money to fund this hospital we have to close down. If we close down who will treat the patients? Some people can't afford private health care, they'll die of something that is curable because they didn't have enough money to see the doctor." Cuddy took a deep breath, "Go home."

"But I-"

"No buts. Go now. Shoo!" she pushed him in the direction of the locker rooms, "I don't want to see you within ten feet of this hospital until noon tomorrow."

"House will-"

"I don't care what House wants. He has to learn to grow up and not get everything he wants. Now go home." She gave him a firm push.

Chase reluctantly moved forward, he glanced back at Cuddy to make sure it wasn't a joke. She had her hands on her hips and was tapping her feet. He sped up and sipped his cappuccino, nearly spitting it back out as it burned his tongue. He reached his uniform grey locker beside other uniform grey lockers, he unlocked it and stood for a moment in front of it. All the lockers were equipped with mirrors. 'For vanity purposes.' Chase thought cynically. 'Wow. I look like crap.'

It wasn't far from the truth either. His hair hung in lank lumps, his eyes bloodshot and puffy, and he was pretty sure he had lost another pound or two. Chase now understood why Cuddy would've suddenly taken an interest in his wellbeing. She just didn't want him scaring off all the patients. He slipped out of his lab coat and studied it, it was stained with blood and god knows what else. He discarded it by dumping it into the biohazard bin, he calculated that lab coat number fifty-two was to be worn tomorrow. As he put on his black coat he suddenly noticed he had left his notebook in the diagnostic conference room, biting his lip he wondered if he should go up and get it. He weighed the options: he would get attacked emotionally by House again or House would find it and marvel at the pretty little pictures in the margins. Chase opted to go back for it, it was nearly eleven at night. House would be home by now, probably drinking a beer and Chase had nothing to worry about.

Chase felt like a coward as he slowly slunk his way up to the diagnostic conference room, he stopped at every corner and peeked around them making sure House wasn't waiting to jump him. As he finally reached his glass-doored destination, the breath he didn't know he was holding rushed out in a sigh. Gently pushing the door open he poked his head into the darkness, waiting for his eyes to adjust he studied the dark room. The white board held a few more symptoms written in Cameron's girlish handwriting, the chairs were placed precisely underneath the glass table. As his eyes swept through the room, he frowned he was sure he had left the notebook near the little coffee stop corner. Hefting the door open more widely, he stepped in.

He noticed music playing softly from the adjourning office, the venetian blinds were closed so Chase couldn't be sure if House was in there or not. He hadn't noticed anything when he had passed moments before. Frowning, he inched forward staying as close to the glass walls as possible. Gently prying a gap in the blinds he peeked into the thin sliver that he allowed himself to view. Seeing nothing he widened the gap, House's desk sported a light blue glow. His brows furrowed as he moved closer, the music grew louder. As he rounded House's desk he saw the screen of the older doctor's Ipod left on. Chase gingerly picked it up, afraid he might break it, it looked so fragile. He turned it off. Strange that House would leave such a valuable asset at the hospital where anyone could steal it.

Biting his lip, Chase sat down in House's comfortable black chair and opened a drawer. Seeing a gameboy sitting amid the other items consisting of: broken yo-yos, bouncy balls, and slinkies, Chase nestled the Ipod between the gameboy and House's favourite yo-yo. Leaning back he studied the dark and gloomy sky outside, resigned he got up and went home. After all, he didn't need Cuddy coming after him with a broom or something.

* * *

In the early afternoon, Dr Eric Foreman had the most trying day of his career. He had been sent by House to get a patient's history, unfortunately for Foreman the patient couldn't talk without spitting out teeth and crying out in pain every time he opened his mouth. To his surprise, Foreman pitied the man. He had seen before images of this once handsome man, sleek chestnut hair with a smooth olive complexion, thoughtful dark eyes and relaxed brows, a young man around Foreman's age. But now, his face was invading by angry looking lesions, the man could hardly breath without moaning in pain in between. Foreman checked the man's chart, he was already receiving five milligrams of morphine. If he ordered more morphine to be pushed into the man's system then he may become addicted.

"Mr Reichs, how are you feeling?" Foreman asked pulling on surgical latex gloves.

"How do you think he feels?" a simpering voice came from the corner.

Foreman turned slowly, his teeth grinding, just what he needed an overly preppy relation of some kind getting in the way. It was as Foreman feared, sitting in the corner was a perfect barbie robot. Her blonde hair curled down her back and around her augmented breasts. The shapely legs were crossed causing her impossibly pink and short skirt to ride higher showing off the lattice tops of her thigh high hose. However, Foreman, felt no attraction. He wasn't gay or anything but he found impossibly thin women who went through plastic surgery every year or so a major turn off. Plus he had his own lovely Sharon to share his bed with him.

"Well I'd say it's pretty painful." he spoke cautiously.

"Then stop asking stupid questions and get on with it." she leaned back letting her light stylish autumn jacket slide slowly down one arm exposing her white shoulder.

"Um...who are you?"

"I'm Mrs Reichs." she said with a small laugh, "Who else could I be?"

"Mrs Reichs, I-"

"Oh call me Bambi." she interrupted.

"Bambi." Foreman stated more in disbelief then anything, "Well okay, Bambi, I need to ask some question about your husband and you. Some may be personal. If that is okay."

"Fire away." she said combing a perfectly manicured nails through her long mane of hair.

"Have you or your husband traveled anywhere lately?"

She wrinkled her nose, it made her look like a pig ready to sneeze. Foreman thought Chase could do a cuter expression then that. "Well we've been in England, Ireland, France, Italy, and Australia throughout the last six months."

Foreman noted it onto his chart and looked for Mr Reichs to confirm, he merely nodded slowly and painfully. "Have you been-"

"Before you ask, everywhere we've been have been perfectly sterile. We haven't been through the perfectly disgusting parts of town, that smell is absolutely horrid."

"What about sex?"

Mrs Reichs laughed, "Of course we've been having sex, you're a funny man Dr Foreman. We're married." she said as if she was stating a no-brainer for a small child.

"Sex with anyone else?" Foreman asked absent mindedly.

She was just a fireball of rage as she leapt up from her seat, "How dare you accuse us of cheating? We would never do such a thing, would we darling?"

Foreman noted the mascara running down her face, effectively ruining all make up she had carefully applied this morning. Before she could go into hysterical sobs, Foreman pressed for a button and called for a nurse to care for Mrs Reichs. As she was being led out, she stepped out of her impossibly high heels and threw them at Foreman. He deflected the oncoming missiles with ease, but he was sure they'd leave a bruise before the day was over and done with. He sighed and sat down beside Mr Reichs bedside, "I'm going to ask you 'yes' or 'no' questions. It'd be easier for us to diagnose you so answer them, alright?"

At the painful nod, Foreman ran through all the standard questions. Prying into the man's family history, the Mrs's family history. In the end Foreman felt satisfactory. As he was leaving he was drenched as the Mrs threw her flavoured water at him. Sighing he headed for the locker room, his favourite tie was ruined for the day. Placing his soaked clothes in a plastic bag so they wouldn't soak through to his other stuff in his locker he noted he didn't have a decent pair of pants he could wear. He resigned himself to wearing scrubs for the rest of the day. Foreman didn't much like wearing scrubs, it made his skin look darker then it should and they were so unfashionable.

* * *

Chase inserted the small golden key into the lock and opened the door, closing it softly behind him he leaned back and let his head thump on the wooden door. He took in the dim lighting of his spacious apartment and left it that way. The strong lighting would've just provoked the headache lurking in the back of his skull. Dropping his pack he stared up at the ceiling as he realized he had once again forgotten his notebook. Sighing he gave it up as a lost cause and hung his jacket on the coat hangar near the door. Treading over the plush white carpet, he entered the kitchen. It was about half the size of the living area but that still was pretty big. Leaning forward he took a peek in the refrigerator and pulled out a jug of milk and a salad from two nights ago.

Sitting down he pulled his laptop towards him, stuffing some lettuce in his mouth he checked his email. Most of them were from prestigious hospitals around the world who were trying to get him interested in their hospital. The great late Dr Rowan Chase's son working for them, that sure had a nice ring to it. Chase shook his head in disgust and deleted them all, a few were from past lovers spewing their crap about how sorry they were about his father. Chase deleted those too, next came advertisements from various pharmaceutical companies and one from a distant and rather crazy aunt. He smiled as he opened it, a leprechaun leaped across the screen showering gold and dancing like a mad man. Chase replied with a, 'I'm fine. How are you and your family doing.'

Getting up he stretched and felt his back crack satisfactory, he loosened his tie and went in search for the clothes he slept in. In the bathroom, he couldn't help but close the door. It was a habit he assumed, for what was the point of closing a door when there was no one else in the house? Quickly he stripped, shivering in the slight cold he stepped into the bathtub. He turned his face away as he was pelted by hot water. Standing with his back facing the shower head, he let himself be engulfed by the hot waterfall. Chase leaned back onto the wall and the grief and stress from the day punched him in the gut. Slowly Chase slid down the wall, letting his head drop back, he finally let the sadness that he had ruthlessly suppressed earlier to overwhelm him. He couldn't tell if the water that was running down his cheeks were from the shower or his own tears.


	8. Chocolate

I find myself somehow entered in a writing contest...of course that was before I read the rules. (Face-palm) Minimum thirty pages or something like that. Good news is that it isn't due until the last week of May...so depending on how fast I work...updates are bound to be irregular and far inbetween. I sincerely apologize and will try to get at least one chapter out a week...if I don't get sidetracked. (Don't yell at me...plz)

**blasphamy6669:** The mysteries of the world. Thankz.

**felixgirl:** Lol, torturing cute boys syndrome. Maybe if I get time afterwards I'll check out your fic. Thankz.

**rileypoolesangel:** Yup, poor Chase.

**OverThexMOON: **Lol, I can't write straight angst for the life of me.

**isheebishee:** Thankz.

**KatieMalfoy19: **Really I can't tell you why he feels depressed cause it'll kill the plot and it wouldn't be as interesting so you'll have to wait. (I'm so mean.) MWHAHAHAHA! There's still a ways to go still...I think...

**Rubix-Complex:** Wow...(Blush.) Thankz. And you know what they do, if you can't find the fics you want. Write them.

BTW please ignore my shoddy medical research, I frankly don't know what I'm talking about.

Plz review...I got some sort of euphora (sp?) as I read them all last time.

* * *

Shadowed Guilt: Chapter Eight Chocolate

Chase opened his eyes as the sunlight hit his bed, squinting he stared at the golden stripes on the opposite wall. He didn't feel like moving, his limbs were all loose and warm. Rolling onto his side he checked the digital clock, the red numbers shone 10:15. His half closed lids flew open and he shot to the shower only to realize that Cuddy didn't want him anywhere near the hospital until noon. Slinking back into bed he curled up in a tight ball and willed his mind to take all the sleep he could, Chase didn't know when the next time he would be able to sleep in his own soft bed.

An hour later he was woken up by his alarm clock. Glaring spitefully at it he went and took his intended shower, dressed in dark colours making sure his tie matched his shirt, took an apple and left for the hospital. As he walked down the flights of stairs leading outside, the elevator was broken again, he wondered about his lost notebook. Maybe by some miracle he had not left it in House's office or the diagnostic room, instead it was probably sitting in the ICU lounge where no one would touch it. 'Unlikely.' Chase thought, 'I'm not that blonde.'

A slight chill permeated the outside air, wrapping his jacket more tightly around him he walked to his car. It was a black mercedes benz, he didn't know what was the big deal about it, it was just a car. Getting in he turned on the radio and drove to PPTH, stuck in a particularly nasty snarl of traffic he sat back and drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. With half an ear he listened to the radio announcing birthdays, he thought of Elena and how she would never see another birthday again. Shaking his head he drove on, as he neared his parking spot he suddenly felt light headed. Rubbing the middle of his forehead he shook his head and parked the car with one hand. Stumbling out, he headed towards the building.

oOoOoOo

House turned from the whiteboard as Chase entered, "Nice of you to finally join us. Everybody's starting to think you don't care about the patient at all."

Chase stiffened, "I care."

"We're starting to doubt it blondie, you're never here when you're needed."

"I'm just always in the ICU when you decide to have one of your little brainstorm with your class things. I have other patients you know."

"Excuses, excuses." House tutted.

Schooling his face into what would be considered a cool demeanor, Chase went over and poured himself coffee. "So, let's try this again. Differential diagnoses." House called out.

"Tuberculosis." Cameron immediately said.

"What are you? A broken record?" House asked with a scowl, "Or are you just stuck on TB because of dear mushroom."

"Mushroom?" Cameron asked blankly.

"Oh never mind. Can your mind get out of the TB suggestion and think of something else? We need variety here."

"How about leprosy?" Foreman suggested.

"Good, but I hope not. I don't want to spend the christmas break in quarantine."

"It's nowhere near christmas yet." Foreman said.

House glared balefully at him, "Your turn Chase."

"Paracoccidioidomycosis."

"Did you pick that because it was the longest?"

Chase shrugged, "You do know that he hasn't been anywhere near South America right?" House asked.

Chase looked like a little boy being scolded for something that he didn't do, he hunched his shoulders, "Syphilis." he murmured.

"Great. The wife would be showing symptoms too." House mocked.

"It presents differently every time." Cameron said from her laptop oblivious to what was happening in front of her nose, "That's why it's called the Great Imitator."

"Does this Bambi person look sick to you?" House asked.

"Haven't met her." Cameron stated calmly.

Foreman snorted, "She's sick in the head if that's what you mean."

"Foreman." House said with false shock, "How could you say something like that?"

"Well it's true. You won't convince me otherwise."

Secretly House agreed with Foreman, Bambi Reichs was sick in the head. "Anymore?"

"Lymphoma." Cameron supplied ever helpful.

"And?"

"Leishmaniasis, histoplasmosis, and a million other different diseases." Foreman said.

"Well." House held up the lung scans up to the light, "I think this will eliminate some. Look at that." he pointed.

The central part of the lungs were covered in white patches. "So that rules out...leishmaniasis for one." House said.

"Lymphoma and probably leprosy." Foreman finished.

"Great, we're making progress." House said crossing those diseases off the white board. "Cameron do a PPD skin test, since you're probably going to do it behind my back anyways."

Cameron got up, "I wasn't going to do it behind your back."

"Remember last time?"

"You weren't standing in the room." Cameron said loftily and left.

"Wear a mask." House shouted after her, "If he does have TB put him in isolation."

Cameron gave him a 'Do I look stupid to you' look. "Chase." House said, "Go check his testicles for syphilis."

"The testicles?" Chase asked, "Couldn't you just test for it in his bloodstream?"

"Go check his testicles." House said.

Dismissing Chase, House turned to Foreman, "You go make sure the diseases we just eliminated are in fact eliminated."

Foreman nodded and left. House sighed and felt an irritating spike of pain in his right leg, popping a vicodin he headed to the adjourning office to sit in his comfortable black chair. Digging through his drawers, House found his I pod, scratching his head he wondered why it was in his drawer where all his games were, he usually kept it locked in the safe on the left hand side. Shaking his head he programmed it to his favourite Who's song and opened the safe. Lying nestled like a valuable treasure was a plain brown notebook, there was no outside descriptors of any kind that made it look personal. However House upended it and watched as some loose pages fluttered out, checking it he deemed them boring. Just notes on different diseases that the owner probably couldn't wrap his pretty head around.

House did not feel the least bit guilty for stealing Chase's notebook, in fact he would consider it research on a subject he wasn't ready to interact with just yet. Gingerly he opened the book to the first page as if it were a manuel script from a thousand years ago. Chase's untidy irregular scrawl covered the pages from top to bottom, most were just notes on some cases they had where it was almost impossible to diagnose the patient. Then House started noticing a few names he didn't know, he was sure they weren't his patients. Rolling over to the computer he typed in a random name out of Chase's book. Maybe he was some kind of stalker or something and these were just some people he had stalked over the span of his career.

A patient history came up. House's brows furrowed as he reached the bottom, dead October 23, 2004. He checked the attending doctor, at the top of the patient form was Dr R Chase in bold letters. House typed in other names, all were dead, all treated by Chase. House sat back stumped, what act of masochism was this? Why did Chase put down all the patients he had lost over his career at PPTH? Was this some Catholic guilt thing? Making a mental note he left it for later and kept flipping.

He noted some doodles in the margin. One of the early doodles dated back to the time just before Foreman arrived, a nice cute fuzzy duck. The kind of duck where you only see in colouring books for little kids, not in real life. Next was a koala, then a wombat or what resembled closely to a wombat. House snorted, apparently his influence was growing on the young doctor. House flipped to the last page that was written on, in a shaky hand Chase had written Dr Elena Joaquin and it trailed off.

oOoOoOo

Disregarding House's last statement of checking Mr Reichs' testicles he went ahead and drew a vile of blood. He avoided the patient's wife with some difficulty and all but scuttled to the labs. Giving the nurse on duty a tired smile he explained what he needed and left after giving her a seemingly more brighter smile. Feeling his stomach growl from being neglected even after that apple, he went down to the cafeteria. Checking his watch he passed a vending machine, nearly passing it he stopped as he glanced at it. Chocolate!

Chase had always had a weakness for chocolate, his sweet tooth had a craving for chocolate and probably always would. Maybe it was because as a child he had been deprived of chocolate for years on end or maybe he was just addicted to the chocolaty sweetness but he couldn't pass a chocolate bar up for the world. Digging in his pockets for a two dollars, he entered the code and watched his soon to be beloved chocolate bar drop down. Retrieving it he peeled the wrapper slowly open as he would undressing a woman who he was about to be intimate with. Breaking off one tiny piece he stuck it on his tongue and waited for it to melt, he was in heaven as the chocolate gave way to caramel.

"Having an orgy with your chocolate bar?" a voice boomed behind him.

Whirling around, Chase quickly stuffed it into his coat pocket, "Why would you say that?"

Foreman chuckled, "That look on your face for starters."

Scowling he started walking, "Was not."

"You're starting to sound like a petulant child." Foreman said mildly, "How about giving me a piece?"

"Kiss my tush." Chase said and entered the cafeteria.

"You are incredibly mean."

"And you have your own dollar to spend." Chase said heading for the back of the line up.

"But that's not as fun."

"So says you. No, I'm keeping it all to my incredibly mean self." Chase smiled, his teeth still brilliantly white.

Foreman just shook his head, giving Chase a pat on the back he left for whatever errand he was running before he got distracted. Chase moved slowly through the line before putting a fork load of lettuce onto his plate. It was the only thing outside of a vending machine that was remotely edible in the hospital. Sitting down, he immediately seasoned it with salt and salad dressing. Mixing it up, he took a bite. For once the lettuce wasn't lumpy and soggy but fresh and crisp. Licking his fork slowly, his pager beeped. Giving a sigh, he checked it. In block letters it asked, 'HAVE YOU SCOPED OUT HIS TESTICLES YET?'

Chase grumbled and continued eating, though he did so quickly. As soon as he finished, Chase dumped the remains in the garbage and placed the tray on top of it. Hurrying to the lab he grabbed the freshly printed results. With one hand he wiped his face to make sure no excess salad dressing was coating his lips and he entered the diagnostic conference room. He found House playing with his yo-yo absent mindedly as he watched General Hospital on the pocket sized television, he glanced up after Chase stood uncertainly for a full minute. "You take your time." he checked his watch, "Approximately four minutes just to get up here with results."

"The printer jammed." Chase lied.

"And I like little kids as much as I do little puppies." House retorted.

"I thought you liked dogs." Chase said utterly confused.

"Not puppies. They get everywhere and poop everywhere, you know how hard it is for me to scoop up poop nowadays?"

Chase blinked rapidly, still not grasping the concept. House sighed and shook his head sadly, "Now be quiet. General Hospital just came on."

For a full fifteen minutes House ignored Chase. Grabbing a chair, Chase sat down and tried not to fidget with the things in his pocket, least of all with his chocolate that was still in there. If House saw it, surely he would take it away from him. Commercials finally rolled around, House turned so fast that he was a blur, "You examined his testicles?"

"Um..." Chase shrugged, waving the folder about.

"Incompetent as always." House said grabbing folder, "You need to consider a new profession."

"But I like it here." Chase said, slightly scared.

House gave him a sidelong glance, "You need a back up plan. It's not like you're going to be here any longer."

Chase immediately sat up, nearly knocking the chair over, "Go to hell." he stormed out.

Staring after him with one eye, House turned back to his show. Interesting, very interesting.


	9. Nightmare

Sorry for the shortness and lateness, but my writing skills detoriated after writing ten pages straight for that blasted writing contest. I kind of rewrote thischapter a million times and couldn't pick out a proper plot so I kind of stole one from the tv show Grey's Anatomy. HeheHappy Easter.

**blasphamy6669:** Aw, I'm just torturing Chase so we can all give him hugs in the end.

**felixgirl:**hehe, I get sidetracked a lot especially when I write. Inspiration hits meat eleven at night every day,however I have to be in bed by11:30 on school days. Andyes, everybody needs an addiction to something. Chase's happen to be chocolate. (grin)

**KatieMalfoy19:** I thought about Chase cutting but then it didn't really jib with me all that well so no he isn't gonna cut. And I'massuming your referring to the notebook, he kind of has this guilt thing which you see more of as the story progresses. And thankz.

**Rubix-Complex:** Aw thankz, grammer was always a weak spot for me due to the fact most of my teachers don't know how to spell. (hehe)

**isheebishee:** That's what we writers do, keep the audience guessing.

**Firetop:** Mwhahaha, I have a problem with notebooks too. You should see all the little 'I hate you, homework.' notes in it. And thank you, I didn't want to make Chase seem god-like even though he already is.

**IcEcReAm69: **Thankyou and no it's not a cutter fic, it didn't jib with me when I thought of a problem Chase would have. And the bulimia thing...hm...I already have a secret all picked out I wonder if I can incoporate that somehow. (cackles madly)

**purplesquint:** Ohhhh crap, I wonder how many times I did that.

Thankz to all whoreviewed, but you know you want to review some more. Enjoy!

* * *

Shadowed Guilt: Chapter Nine Nightmare

House was currently stuck in the clinic for the latter part of the afternoon, apparently Cuddy had changed her mind about cutting a deal. He swears he had nothing to do with not treating Mr Rich-Guy-With-A-Bimbo-Wife quickly enough. As he sat there listening to a patient moan about an upset stomach, House came up with conspiracy theories which vividly involved Mr Reichs blowing up the hospital in a rage. Twirling his cane, he didn't even bother hiding the enormous yawn coming out of his mouth. The patient didn't notice and continued listing more synonyms for belly ache. He always wondered why people thought they knew what was wrong with themselves when in fact they knew diddly squat. Unable to listen to the irritating whine any longer he grabbed his pad of paper and wrote the scientific term for tum tums. Ripping it off he grabbed the doorknob, "I'll just be a moment."

Limping to the pharmacy off to one side of the clinic he thrust the sheet of paper under the pharmacist's nose, House didn't like this woman, she never let him fill his own vicodin prescriptions. She grabbed it and raised an eyebrow, she wisely did not say a word. Putting them in an orange pill bottle, House gave her a glare and returned to the whining patient. Throwing it at the patient he growled, "Take one whenever your tummy starts to ache."

"And if they don't work?" the man asked.

"Then come back and I'll prescribe something stronger." House answered and left.

"Mr Jordan Cartier." House called out as he flipped open a random file in the file bin.

Without even looking at the next patient he limped into exam room five. "Now." House said closing the blinds, "Tell the wise man your prob-" he broke off horrified.

Mr Cartier was looking at him imploringly, blue eyes striking blue. House noted the dark blonde hair and the sharp lean angles of Cartier's face. House's eyes were drawn to the crotch of Cartier's pants, it was straining to the seams. "Um..." House said for a loss of words, "What's wrong with the erection?"

"It won't go away." Cartier replied sullenly.

House sighed and sat, "Taken any little blue pills lately?"

"I make a point to avoid stuff like that."

"Even by accident?"

"I wouldn't know. I have to ask my latest one night stand, she might've had some in her apartment." Cartier replied flicking a dark blonde strand away from his face, "Hey maybe you know her. She's a doctor here I think. Dr Cameron? Do you know her?"

House who had just started drinking out of a bottle of pop, spat it all back out in surprise, "W-what?"

"Dr Cameron was my latest one night stand, I was wondering if you knew her." Cartier said slowly as if he was talking to a very slow child.

"Just a minute." House replied, an evil grin crossed his face as he rolled the wheelie chair to the phone that was on the other side of the room, "Paging Dr Cameron for a consult in exam room five." his tone serious, inside however was a different matter.

A minute or two later the door opened and Cameron stepped in, "Dr House." she acknowledged, "What seems to be the problem?"

Cameron had not turned once to the patient and the patient hadn't even tried to attract Cameron's attention. "Well." House said banging his staff against the arm rest of his chair, "I met one of your old friends and I thought that maybe you'd like to treat him yourself."

Cameron's eyebrows furrowed and she turned, "Jordan?" she gasped in disbelief.

"Allison, darling." Cartier replied as if he didn't have an embarrassing predicament at hand.

House stayed quiet and blended into the background, or as much as he could. Cameron sat down faintly, obviously she didn't want to see her random one night stand again. "Why are you here?"

Cartier smiled sheepishly, "This morning when I left I was fine. Two hours later, I met with a...client."

'Ohhhh.' House thought, 'Man-whore, interesting.'

"But I ejaculated and that was it, not two seconds after I was hard again and have been ever since. I've tried mas-"

"Enough." Cameron said holding up her hands.

Cartier stopped and waited patiently, or as patiently as he could with a very uncomfortable circumstance. Cameron pursed her lips and glared at House, "Out."

"But this is so much fun to watch." House said.

"Go." Cameron said firmly, she nearly resembled Cuddy right there and then.

Grumbling House left, as the door started to shut he stuck the tip of his cane in it so it didn't close all the way. Leaning against the wall immediately right of the door he whistled slightly as a couple of patients passed. "Why did you come to this hospital?" Cameron sounded agitated.

"Well I knew you were going to be working here and here you are."

"But...I..." Cameron trailed off, "I'll solve your little problem, but you are not to embarrass me in front of my colleagues. Got that?"

"What more do I want then a strict woman in my life?" a smirk could be hear in Cartier's voice.

"You be quiet." Cameron said, a sort of affection colouring her voice.

"Yes, ma'am."

House limped away and was in the next room examining a patient with a small cold before Cameron led Cartier upstairs to a hospital bed.

oOoOo

Three painstaking clinic hours later, House could be found in his office with his feet propped up and bobbing his head to soothing jazz music. A knock came from the glass door, holding up a hand at the person who had just walked in House finished his song before opening his eyes to see Chase with the results of the PPD test in one hand. The young doctor's eyes were bloodshot from another sleepless night, his hair hung in front of his face and looked as dejected as Chase did. "You look like crap." House summarized.

"Glad you noticed." Chase said handing over the file, "Mr Reichs' PPD test was positive for TB. I have him in isolation and I've started him on rifatar."

"Ohhh, is the hospital getting cheap again?" House asked.

Chase dropped exhaustedly into one of the uncomfortably low chairs surrounding House's desk, "It's isonizad, rifampin, and pyrazinamide combined into one pill. They're just making it easier for the patient to swallow only one pill instead of three."

"The hospital is still getting cheap." House argued, "Why would they invent such medicine if not to cut down on the cost of making them and upping the cost the patient has to pay for them."

"It's not that expensive." Chase yawned.

"Where's Cameron?" House asked changing the subject.

"I don't know. Settling her new patient I suppose." Chase said lazily leaning back, "I can't believe she's treating a guy with a broken penis."

House snorted and spun around in his chair a couple of times, "What about Foreman?"

Frowning a bit Chase contemplated the question, "Running tests I think."

"You think?"

"I think." Chase stated with finality in his tone.

"It's been like what two days since I told Foreman to run tests on our patient."

"Tests take time." Chase said.

"Not that much time." House grumbled.

Chase shook his head and rested it on the back of his chair, closing his eyes he let out a sigh, "Why don't you go bother him and find out what exactly he's doing?"

"Nah." House said after a moment's silence, "You're more fun to irritate."

"Oh I feel loved." Chase lifted a tired arm to rest on his brow.

House regarded Chase and the way his whole body sagged to the floor, "Go away, I think a rerun of the OC is starting anytime soon."

He peeked at House from under his arm and got up slowly, without a word he left to go take a nap in the ICU lounge. Curling up on the lumpy surface of a gurney they placed out for the intensivists to crash on, Chase turned his back to the world and let out a breath as he slipped away into the land of dreams...and nightmares...

oOoOo

Chase winced as a bright light was shone in his face, he was standing stiff shouldered on a polished wooden floor. Raising an arm he tried to cover his eyes and hopefully make out some sort of object that would clue him into where he was. All he knew was he was on some sort of stage and that there was a possibility that people were staring down at him. Footsteps echoed from behind him, Chase whirled around, suddenly weak kneed Chase sank to the floor. He saw the imposing face of his late father, eyes staring down at him from his beak like nose, mouth stern and frowning. "So." Chase flinched, "This is my son. My only son. A disappointment to all of man kind and doctors."

Rowan Chase knelt before his son, who raised his head to meet Rowan's cold eyes, "Couldn't even ask one standard question. You could've saved her life, son." he spat out the last word as if it fouled his mouth, "You could've saved your mother, me, Elena..."

Chase felt tears gather in his eyes and he clasped his ears as laughter ricocheted from the audience, "Stop it. Please stop it."

"You brought this on yourself boy." Rowan smirked as his eyes became empty sockets, "You filthy coward. I'm surprised that inferior doctor House hasn't fired you yet, maybe he's just playing with you like a little kid would with an ant."

"No, no, no." Chase cried, "It's not true."

"How do you know?" Rowan laughed, "Do you seriously think House would keep you as a precious lap dog after what you did? Quit fooling yourself. No one cares about your pathetic problems and they never will." his face detoriated and the stench of death filled Chase's airspace.

Chase shook his head violently and he rocked himself like a little child. Gin flooded into Chase's nostrils, "Mum?"

A sharp slap echoed in the darkening room, drunken laughter filled the air and a stumbling step forward. "Get up." she screeched kicking him hard in the ribs, "Give mummy a hug."

Shaking, Chase did as he was told. Embracing the bones that had once been his mother, Chase's tears leaked, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry..."

oOoOo

The shrill beeping of his pager caused Chase to jolt out of his nightmare, sweating he brushed the back of his hand over his eyes and felt the wetness there. His face hidden Chase checked the lounge and sighed in relief, getting shakily to his feet he dodged into the nearest bathroom. Seconds later he came out looking refreshed, his eyes clear and the shaking stopped. For now.


	10. Bruises

Mwhahahaha I feel so evil today. (evil grin inserted here) You'll see why.

**KatieMalfoy19:** Yes poor Chase and you're getting closer.

**Rubix-Complex:** Aw thank you. (blush)

**felixgirl:** Yes poor Chase. (huggles)

**isheebishee:** Poor poor Chase and thankz.

**Pip3: **Lol and thank you, I try.

**blasphamy6669:** Thank you.

Aww is that it for the reviews? (pouts) I was expecting more...so please do so this time (hint hint)

* * *

Shadowed Guilt: Chapter Ten Bruises

"Okay." Chase said standing over Cameron's one night stand from the day before, "We're going to take the blood out of your penis, hopefully this will...deflate you."

Cartier stared at the enormous needle, "No. I am definitely not consenting to that."

"It's either this." Chase nodded to the needle he was holding, "Or have your penis fall off due to gangrene."

He sighed, "Alright, alright. Just hurry."

Silence pregnated the space, the room was in semi-darkness, the blinds closed. Chase pulled back, "Congratulations, you're flaccid."

"I thought I'd never be glad to hear those words." Cartier sighed and moved to cover himself.

Chase smiled and placed the needle into the biohazard bin, giving it to the attending nurse she scurried out to dispose the needle properly, "You get some rest, tomorrow you'll be discharged." he said as he signed his name on the patient chart before hanging it back on the rail at the foot of the bed.

"Finally." Cartier stretched out lazily, "Hey, where's Ally."

"Trying to save you from the embarrassment of her looking in on you during this little procedure. If you want, I can page her for you." Chase offered disposing the sterile gloves he was wearing.

"No, no. It's fine." Cartier murmured sleepily, "Just have her come by later."

"Alright." Chase said on his way out.

oOoOo

Chase never noticed how cozy this corner in the east stairwell was, his left shoulder touched the distorted and tinted glass of the window and he was effectively hidden from view by a protruding slab of wall. Taking out the remains of his chocolate bar with only a slight wiggle, he leaned back and gazed out at the cerulean blue sky. In the far distance, iron grey clouds could be seen creeping out of its hiding place from the horizon. Slipping a cube of chocolate into his mouth, he looked down and spotted people the size of ants taking a leisurely afternoon stroll across the field. The sun fought it's way free of the clouds and warmed the little window beside Chase, resting his forehead on the glass he let his mind drift. Telling himself he would only rest his eyes, he closed them. Before he knew it he was in the realm of dreamless sleep, the best kind for him.

An hour later, Chase opened his eyes. They wanted to remain stuck together, he was slumped and curled on the ground. Raising his head, he stretched out his body, listening to the tired bones crack. The clouds had finally caught up to the sun and was slowly swallowing it whole, causing the grounds to darken slightly. Running a tongue over his teeth, Chase opted to go to the washroom to clean up.

Wetting his fingers he combed them through the knots and tangles in his hair. Splashing cold water on his face, he brushed his teeth with a bit of paper towel. Letting out a sigh of relief he checked his watch, still another couple of hours until his night shift. Pulling the door open he ran face to face into Cameron, "Where have you been?" she asked obviously agitated.

"Here and there." Chase said evasively.

"I've paged you twice." Cameron said, pulling him out of the doorway of the bathroom.

Digging a hand into his left pocket, he felt around the needles full of lorazepam and other such sedatives and pulled it out. It was blinking 'two new messages', Chase grinned sheepishly, "Sorry."

"Never mind that." Cameron said forcefully dragging him to the elevator.

"Where are we going?"

The elevator door opened and they moved out of the way for the various doctors, nurses, and patients to get out before they squeezed in. "Jordan's room." Cameron mouthed.

"What for?" Chase mouthed back.

"I'll tell you when we get there."

Silence fell between them, however the rest of the people in the elevator all but made up for it in volume capacity. As the elevator reopened, Chase and Cameron stumbled out nearly dieing from the lack of oxygen. Their ears were ringing like Santa and his reindeer had come early in hyper fast mode. Shaking their heads to regain some function of their bodies, they set off again at a slower pace. "Next time I want to ride the elevator, remind me not to." Cameron said.

"Same goes." Chase said, smacking his ears in an attempt to make them unpop, "So what's so urgent?"

"His penis is erect again." Cameron sighed.

"Have you gotten him a MRI yet?"

"I'm working on it, but they're booked for the rest of the afternoon."

Chase murmured disgruntled, "Contact Foreman. Maybe it's a neurological problem. While you're at it, maybe Wilson."

"Wilson?" Cameron asked confused.

"A tumor could be growing somewhere where it keeps the penis erect." Chase shrugged.

"Right." Cameron said and left to go page the two doctors.

Chase entered and Cartier threw up his hands, "I didn't do it."

Chuckling, Chase dragged a chair over, "I know. At least not consciously."

"Not my fault. I was not thinking about something perverted."

A grin fought it's way onto Chase's face, "Supposedly men think of something sexual every seven seconds."

"Damn. Thwarted again." Cartier sighed, "So does that mean you do too?"

"I try not to." Chase said, "But it's there."

"Science is a bitch." Cartier said draping the blanket over his knees to lessen the look of the erection.

"Life's a bitch." Chase sparred back absent mindedly.

"Everything is a bitch." Cartier smirked.

"I can't agree with you anymore." Chase said.

"Aren't you here to ask me weird and uncomfortable questions?"

"No, that's Cam...I mean Allison's job." Chase replied evenly, "I'm just the guy who waits around for the MRI's to be free."

"So you don't think it's my very sick mind?" Cartier asked.

A stifled chuckle escaped, "I can't answer that truthfully."

Cartier glared and poked Chase in the side and his voice took on a seductive purr, "You know...I admire beauty."

"I think a vast majority of the world admires beauty."

Taking Chase's hand, Cartier began stroking it with his thumb, "Love transcends gender."

Snatching his hand back, Chase smiled nervously, "You can stop now."

"Oh, but a beauty such as yours shouldn't be wasted in such a gloomy hospital as this." hunger shone in Cartier's eyes.

"Okay..." Chase said standing up and bracing himself for an attack, "There is something seriously wrong with-" he was interrupted as Cartier sprang and tackled him to the floor.

Alarmed, Chase rolled and bucked, all to no avail. Cartier's eyes were wide and madness roared like a blazing fire in them. His grip tightened around Chase's wrists and forced them to the floor, Chase struggled but he couldn't fight off the two hundred pound man sitting on top of him. As Cartier leaned in, Chase gagged at the overintoxicating smell of mint, his lips crashed onto Chase's lips. Keeping them firmly shut, Chase turned his head violently and luckily dislodged Cartier. "Come on, my pretty baby. You know you want it." the seductive voice hissed into his ear.

"No, no. Please no." Chase cried.

Crushing Chase's hands in one of his, the freed hand traveled lazily through Chase's hair, "So soft."

Chase whimpered and bent back his knees awkwardly, shooting them up in the air he managed to make contact with Cartier's soft underbelly. Cartier let out a frustrated roar as he rolled back in pain, Chase shot for the door unaware of the pain emanated all over his body. Terror ruled his mind. Cartier bounded up from behind him and tackled him once again. This time the momentum crashed them into the glass wall, it shattered on contact and spewed the two men and glass shards everywhere. Chase moaned as the Cartier landed on him, nurses and doctors that were on their coffee break rushed over. Carter grabbed a huge shard of glass, nearly a foot long and held it against Chase's exposed throat, "Come any nearer and I'll kill him."

Chase was nearly unconscious, but all those years of medical school and the required defense training for all doctors and nurses rushed into his mind. A bloodied hand traveled clumsily into his pocket, uncapping the first needle that he found he waited as Cartier ranted on and on. The shard of glass was pressed uncomfortably at his throat and he was sure it had already cut a shallow line across the skin. Taking the needle, he quickly jabbed it into Cartier's thigh. Gasping for air, Chase watched as Cartier slumped backwards into the bed of glass shards.

The gathering crowd rushed over to attend to Cartier, Chase pulled himself up and put a hand out to the wall. Turning his face into it, he tried to calm his heart rate and breathing. "Are you okay?" a voice asked behind Chase effectively causing him to jump a foot in the air.

"Yeah." Chase said still breathing hard.

He turned and found himself face to face with House, he immediately straightened and hid his shaking hands behind his back. "I'm fine." Chase muttered more to convince himself then House.

"What happened?" House asked.

Chase shrugged, "He went crazy. Must be a neurological problem after all..."

"Come on." House said grabbing Chase's elbow, "Let's get you cleaned up."

House felt the slight shiver that Chase was failing to mask and as he looked upon the younger man's face he saw the eyes were wide and the pupils were mere pinpricks and Chase was too pale, even for him. House led him into one of the nearby examination rooms and fetched some water, cloths, a needle, and antiseptic. Starting with the vicious cut across Chase's forehead, House said, "Start from the beginning."

"What's there to tell?" Chase asked, his voice wavering slightly, "He was fine, then it was like something turned on a switch in his head. Then he got...weird and tackled me through the wall."

"You're not telling me the whole story." House said applying antiseptic to the wound.

"There's nothing more to tell." Chase sounded agitated.

House put down the supplies and seized a wrist, Chase winced and tried to pull away. Loosening the cuff buttons, House pushed the sleeve up, "Stop it." Chase said finally pulling away and hurriedly lowered his sleeve, but not before House noticed the finger shaped bruises starting to form.

"You call that fine!" House demanded, temper rising, "I don't call almost being raped fine."

"Who says I-"

"That just proves it." House said trying to regrab the wrist.

Scowling Chase scooted back and sprang for the door, "I'll go home and...and calm down. I'll be back tomorrow." and he was gone.


	11. Invitation

Ohhhh, lookie a new chapter, not exactly one of the best but it's a good start to the torture in the next chapter. MWHAHAHAHAHA!

**blasphamy6669:** We all love Chase torture.

**Pip3:** Mwhahaha. Welcome to the dark side, we have Chase torture. (grins)

**Firetop:** Lol, I think this patient in the show hit the wall with the IV stand thingy and it shattered. Ohhh thank you.

**Daygoner: **Well I always like new readers, welcome to my world of Chase torture. And Thankyou.

**Rubix-Complex: **Aw, thankyou. (blush)

**kpstar:** Hmmm...there might be...I don't know...lol.

Thankyou for all those who reviewed, but I know there's a lot more people then that reading my fic. I want some feedback, come on peoples.

* * *

Shadowed Guilt: Chapter Eleven Invitation

Chase found himself standing in front of Cuddy's desk the very next day, House was seated in a chair immediately right of him and both doctors were staring at him. It was very nerve wrecking, Chase tucked his hands behind his back and fidgeted with a loose thread dangling from the sleeve of his lab coat. His head was bowed and he was chewing his lip nervously, Cuddy placed her hands on a file folder and flipped it open, "Are you claiming everything is the truth? Nothing has been left out or substituted with another scenario?"

"No, Dr Cuddy." Chase said quietly, a mere hair from a whisper, "Everything is as it's stated in the report."

"Dr House." Cuddy shot House a quick glare, "Seems to believe differently. Can you tell us why?"

"Perhaps it's his over reactive imagination at work." Chase suggested, shifting uncomfortably.

"Dr House, care for a rebuttal?" Cuddy asked leaning back to watch the drama unfold.

House stood up slowly, popping a white pill, he moved slowly to Chase's side. Seizing Chase's chin, he forced Chase to look at him straight in the eyes, "I'll tell you why." House's tone sounded fierce and his eyes were burning, "I distinctively saw finger shaped bruises starting to form on his wrists when I tended to him yesterday."

Chase backed off until he nearly hit the wood and glass wall, rubbing unconsciously at his wrists, he replied, "They weren't from Cartier."

"Then who were they from?" House asked, "Another patient?"

Sensing a trap, Chase tried not to fall into it, "Why do you care?"

"Despite what you think, I'm not the cold hearted bastard everyone thinks I am. Wouldn't you care if one of your subordinates nearly got raped?" House asked poking the cane at Chase.

"I didn't nearly get raped nor was I raped." Chase said gesturing widely, "They were from a patient."

"Yeah, Cartier." House stepped closer, "We can match his hand size to your bruises you know."

Nearly nose to nose, Chase had nowhere to escape, "Well I assure you, I will not consent to such testing."

"Because what I'm saying is true." House's voice rose in volume, "You're just afraid to face it."

Chase managed to wiggle out from under House's nose, "You're wrong and this interview slash interrogation or whatever the hell you want to call it is over." he stalked out of the room.

Cuddy turned to face a very angry House, "Well he denies it."

"Haven't you been listening?" House was nearly yelling, "He doesn't want to face the music."

Cuddy calmly got up from her chair, "That sounds like somebody we all know."

House stared disbelievingly at her, "But...I'm different."

"How so?" Cuddy challenged, grabbing a file folder, "Just because you're a miserable cripple with a vicodin addiction, it doesn't mean you're different from Chase."

"Of course I am." House said with dignity, "I'm not the one with a screwed up life style."

She raised an eyebrow, "Yeah right."

"Okay. Not that screwed up of a life style." House held out his arms like he was asking patience from a nonexistent god.

"And why do you think that he leads a screwed up life style as you put it." Cuddy asked, filing the folder away.

"Well." House sat down, his voice defeated, "It's just a feeling."

"Really? What kind of feeling?" Cuddy asked intrigued.

"How am I suppose to know? It's just a feeling."

"Are you going paternal on us?" Cuddy asked slyly.

"You're nuts." House said standing up.

"I know." Cuddy smiled sweetly, "Now shoo and go find your precious wombat, see if he changes his story. Although I must warn you, if he files a harassment suit against you, no one's saving you."

"I feel so loved." House said while dramatically wiping an imaginary tear away.

"Go. I have work to do." Cuddy said smoothing her skirt out before she sat back down.

"Unlike we real doctors." House said wrenching the door open and leaving to find Chase.

oOoOo

House would've thought that since most of the hospital was almost made entirely with glass walls, that it wouldn't exactly be hard to find one blonde haired male doctor in the vicinity. Chase could do quite the disappearing act, every time House thought he saw the blonde Aussie, the next second he had disappeared into thin air. His leg was throbbing from walking through every imaginable room, ward, bathroom, including the women washrooms. Groaning he sat down on one of those supposedly cushy waiting chairs, seconds later House felt another presence join him to the seat immediately to his left, "Jimmy." he greeted popping another vicodin.

"I hear you're having trouble finding your wombat." Wilson whispered.

"I hear you're officially relieved of your third wife." House taunted.

A smile actually crossed Wilson's boyish features, "Finally."

"Great." House said, "Now you can come be my hubby and cook delicious food for yours truly."

"You wish." Wilson said with a chuckle.

"One can dream can't they?" House asked.

"It's not that hard to find one doctor with extremely blonde hair." Wilson said.

"When wombats choose, they can hide without being seen by the predator." House said, "Hey, if you're so smart why don't you go find him then."

"My pleasure." Wilson sat back.

Chase appeared a few minutes later, head still bowed, "Dr Wilson, why..." he trailed off as he spotted House, turning tail as smoothly as a cat would've, he walked back out the door.

"Wow." Wilson said theatrically eating invisible popcorn, "Amazing."

House whacked him with the handle of his cane, "Go find him and bring him back here. Bound and chained if you have to."

"Yes, mom." Wilson said obligingly getting up.

House poked him lightly with the end of his cane and picked up a medical journal that happened to be sitting next to him. He was in for an interesting read of gastroenteritis for the next several minutes.

oOoOo

"Chase." Wilson shouted at Chase's retreating back.

Glancing behind him, Chase didn't even break stride, in fact he quickened his pace. Growling to himself, Wilson jogged after him, "Chase, get back here."

Despite Wilson's pleas for Chase to slow down, he started to make a mad dash for the elevator. Chase let out an aggravated growl as he jabbed the elevator button over and over again, fate was not with him today. Glancing over his shoulder at the ever advancing oncologist, he shot for the stairs. "Oh." Chase said as he slammed into somebody, "I'm so sorry." he caught a whiff of overpowering perfume, "Aw, shit." he muttered.

"Dr Chase." Mrs Reichs fluffed her hair, "That is quite alright."

"Good day, ma'am." Chase said sidling towards the stairs.

"Oh honey, what did you do to your face?" Mrs Reichs asked clutching his right arm.

"Patient." Chase chuckled nervously and wondered which would be worse. Stuck with a brainless fashion model or in the snapping jowls of his boss.

"I hoped you sued."

Chase gulped and glanced at Wilson's slowing pace, "Um... It wouldn't have held up in court. Now if you'll excuse me, I have..."

"You know what?" she said burying her head in his chest, "My birthday is tomorrow."

"Well." Chase said, backing up, "A very happy birthday to you. I really need to..."

Mrs Reichs pouted, "My husband won't be with me. It's so lonely in that big house without people."

"I'm sure you can invite some friends." Chase said, reaching behind him for the staircase rail.

"But that's the problem. Everybody's so busy." Mrs Reichs lower lip was in danger of staying that way forever.

"I'm sure you'll figure it out. Now if you'll..." Chase inched backwards and almost tripped down the stairs.

"Why don't you come?" she enticed.

"What?" Chase's neck snapped back in her direction.

"Yes, why don't you and your colleagues come to our estate. It'll be so great."

"Uh..." he didn't mean to but his mouth was probably hanging open making him look like an idiot.

Wilson appeared next to Mrs Reichs, who instantly turned and wriggled her butt at Chase. "Dr Wilson, I presume you work with Dr Chase."

"Kind of." he said, staring anywhere but at the low cut blouse that almost exposed her breasts.

"Oh goody." she said, "I was inviting Dr Chase here to my birthday tomorrow."

"Congratulations." Wilson said.

Her face broke into a surprisingly charming smile, but the vivid red lipstick ruined the effect somewhat, "Tell you what. You invite the rest of the team that helped with my husband's case to come over for my birthday. There'll be caviar."

"We'll be-"

"It'll depend on our work hours." Chase interrupted, "I'm sure some patients can't do with the lack of doctors that'll be around."

Mrs Reichs laughed, "I'll clear it with your boss, Dr Cuddy isn't it?"

Nodding dumbly, Wilson and Chase watched as Mrs Reichs pranced into the elevator that had finally decided to show up. Chase groaned, "What have we done?"

"Nothing good." Wilson groaned right alone with the blonde doctor.


	12. Subdued

Crazy write like mad week is over. Yes, I have to go back to school...which reminds me I still have to study for that unit final...oh well. Enjoy, I made it super long. (Well not exactally super long but long enough for me.)

**tlttmn:** (Jaw drops) Really? I feel loved, seriously loved. But hon, you didn't have to do that. And I feel like a red Christmas light bulb right now. Thankyou. (Huggles)

**blashphamy6669:** Lol, thankyou.

**Firetop:** (Grins) Thanks.

**isheebishee:** Lol, thankz.

**AtreidesHeir:** Well Chase is playing your angle to House, but you know House. Genuis who gets everything right...or almost right. Lol, I hope this helps with some of the pain. Thankz.

**felixgirl:** Don't worry bout it. Really? I've only read Chase gets raped fics, but oh well. We all love Chase torture. Everyone's busy right now, I just have absolutely no social life. Thankz.

**Rubix-Complex:** Lol, you should strangle her real life counterpart I based her off of. I think it would do me a lot of favours. Thankz.

**Merlin71:** Well first things first. Welcome to the world of House MD, I hope you'll enjoy your stay. I'm very flattered you would pick my fic out of dozens of gooder ones out there. Thankz.

Thankz to all who reviewed, but you know me. Review whore, so get your reviews in while you can.

* * *

Shadowed Guilt: Chapter Twelve Subdued

The Reichs lived in the middle of nowhere, by a placid blue lake surrounded by autumn coloured trees on all four sides. Chase stepped out onto the cobble stoned driveway and glanced back as the rest of the gang crawled out of the shiny black limousine that had come to pick them up. He had remembered how fast the other's jaws dropped when they saw it, he wasn't sure about himself though. The jaw dropping was imitated again as they stared up at the house, which could only be considered a mansion in their eyes. Emerald jewel bright lawn, with a smattering of gardens with wilting begonias and roses. The gate and the surrounding walls looked like a prison to Chase considering the fancy yet lethal spikes lining the tops of the walls. A fountain could be seen in the far corner of the lawn, but it was too far to make out the figure perched in the center of it spewing out water. It could've been Chase's over active imagination, but he was pretty sure it wasn't something that would be taken lightly if seen in public.

The weather was starting to chill down slightly, he wrapped his arms around himself and watched as House slowly adjusted his crooked bow tie, Chase had avoided him so far. Foreman climbed out of the leather interior glumly, he had tried his hardest to get out of this little engagement by claiming he had a patient with a serious aneurism that had to be surgically treated today. However House declared if he himself was forced to go then his ducklings would be going along with him, unless they wanted to be fired there and then. Chase had spent the better part of last night assuring Foreman that this particular suit didn't make him look like a penguin.

In truth both House and Wilson could've passed for penguins with there matching black bow ties and snow white dress shirts tucked neatly into their black dress pants. House had even shined up his shoes to a mirror like appearance just for this occasion. Cameron had surprised them all by applying make up, changing her hair until it floated every time she walked or moved, and wearing a rather low scooping red dress. Chase felt invisible in his conservative black suit, shirt, tie, and shoes the very same outfit he had worn to his father's funeral. Considering the reason they were here in the first place, he considered it a small blessing.

A gaunt man stepped from the vast interior of the foyer of the estate, he was dressed formally in a suit which marked him as a butler. Chase thought in all appearances the man could've been a vampire with a stick up his arse. "This way please." the butler had a high thin nasal voice, which grated on everyone's nerves.

Through the polished marble, wood, and persian rugged floors they went. Chase couldn't help but stare at the pieces of art hanging on the walls and the statues that were in the middle of the corridors in equally spaced intervals. He couldn't figure out what they were suppose to be and he had no desire to, at least not at the moment. The butler lead them to the dining hall, overhead in the high ceiling a giant antique chandelier glimmered with lights reflected off the clear crystals. The center of the hall was taken up by a round dark oak table covered with fine linen already set with silverware and wine glasses. "Please be seated." the butler indicated to the cushioned chairs.

As the butler left, House raised his eyebrows, "Ohhh, everything is so formal. I'm suffocating from the weirdness flowing out of this place."

The doctors seated themselves and Chase found himself seated between House and Wilson, 'Oh damn.' Chase thought, 'Now they're going to gang up on me.' he sank a few inches in his seat.

The doors opposite to the ones that they had entered burst open, two maids in the classic black and white uniform scurried to keep the enormous polished wood doors open. Mrs Reichs dramatic as ever strutted in. She was dressed in an eye searing pink strapless ball gown, at the back was a mile long train in a more eye friendly pink, it was what would be conservative for Mrs Reichs. Her blonde hair was bound up at the back of her head with stray locks dangling and some were caught in the golden hoops adorning her ears, for once her lips were painted a soft rose colour instead of the overly garish red, "Welcome to my humble abode." her voice was loaded with so much sugar that they could almost taste the sweetness in the air.

"We er...wish you a happy birthday?" Chase sounded uncertain.

"Oh, what a dear. Thank you." she gestured behind her, "I'm terribly hungry, let's eat." she seated herself in the chair with the back facing the doorway she had just entered.

Uniformed waiters and waitresses appeared behind her and placed what could only be considered a feast down. Caviar, a giant roasted turkey flavoured with spices, steak and rice for each of the tables occupants, red and white wine bottles appeared every few feet, salad, and other such heavenly food. Their mouths watered and they were in danger of drooling over their outfits, "Well." Mrs Reichs said, pouring herself a glass of ruby red wine, "What are you waiting for dig in."

They cautiously reached for their forks and knives and began sawing away on their tender steaks, Chase's lips wrapped around the medium rare piece he had just cut and nearly closed his eyes in bliss. The juices flowed into his mouth, remembering not to swallow it whole and look like a pig, he chewed it thoroughly and slowly savoring every bite before swallowing. In no time he had swallowed the last bite of steak and steamed rice, he gently poured himself a glass of red wine, only half a glass. He delicately sipped it, House watched him, "You have the weirdest way in eating food, young man. I don't think it should be legal."

"What do you mean?" Chase asked licking his lips.

House waited until Chase took another sip, "You're having sex with the food."

To Chase's credit, he didn't spray the mouthful of wine all over the table, he however did make a weird gulping noise, "What!" his voice strangled as he tried to clear his abused throat.

"You heard me." House said a little too loudly, "You're-" he was interrupted as Chase elbowed him hard in the stomach.

Everybody looked up from their food, Wilson he had been eavesdropping stifled a laugh. Chase went a slight shade of pink, "Just ignore him, he's had a little too much wine I think."

Use to the fact that House sometimes acted like he was a little kid on a candy high, Foreman and Cameron turned back to their food. Mrs Reichs speculated for a moment then turned back to her food. Chase glared at House, "You-"

"Dr Chase." Mrs Reichs' sugary voice floated over to them, "Do you play the piano?"

"Only a little, ma'am. And fairly poorly at that." Chase gave a strained smile, "If you're looking for a pianist, I suggest you ask Dr House here."

Mrs Reichs didn't even give House a passing glance, "Do you play any instrument well?"

"Only the violin, but I haven't played in years." Chase started feeling a little bit antsy.

"Oh, what a shame. Do you draw?"

'What is this twenty questions?' Chase asked himself, "Only a little, for the little ones in the pediatric ward at the hospital."

"Oh, so what do you think of the art hanging around in this dreary old place?"

"I hardly think this place is dreary, ma'am." Chase said, "But to tell you the truth I haven't inspected those wondrous pieces of artwork to give a honest enough opinion."

"Oh, dear. We should take a look then after lunch?"

"If you want, madam." Chase said.

"Why do you call her ma'am or madam?" House whispered into Chase's ear as Mrs Reichs turned to engage with a conversation with Cameron, commenting her on her spectacular appearance.

Chase shrugged and quietly stabbed a few leaves of lettuce with more force then necessary, "Habit, I suppose."

"So you call the women you sleep with ma'am or madam?" House inquired.

"No, only women in high positions. And I haven't slept with her. Now can we not talk about this? I'm feeling a bit queasy." Chase muttered.

"I don't see you talking to Cuddy with a ma'am or a madam at every tail end of the sentence. Does that mean you've slept with dear Lisa?" House asked.

"I didn't call Stacy madam and I sure as hell haven't slept with Cameron." Chase defended.

"Yet." House finished.

"You are unbelievable." Chase turned, "Don't you start either." he said pointedly to Wilson.

Wilson did a one shouldered shrug and continued eating.

oOoOo

As the lunch drew to a close, Mrs Reichs stood up patting her lips delicately with a handkerchief, "Let us move into the parlor, shall we?"

The parlor as Mrs Reichs put it could've been considered a studio if it weren't taken up by a seven foot grande piano and floral printed furnishings. A giant fireplace took up almost one wall and over it hung two finely decorated swords, crossed and keeping some sort of holly in its confines. They sat, House taking up a cushy armchair for himself and his bad leg rested on a matching footstool. Mrs Reichs sat almost directly across from him in the armchair's twin and the rest of them scattered themselves among couches and chairs. A servant brought in tea, the real stuff not the floral scented water that came in small packages at convinience stores. Taking his cup, Chase wandered the room as Mrs Reichs engaged the rest of the gang in a conversation about her husband's case.

On one side of the room, it was covered with cages. Chase sauntered over and expected one, in it held a sad cockatoo, it's bright yellow fringe lying dismally flat upon it's head. It spread it's white and yellow wings and made a sad noise. Soothing noises issued automatically from Chase's mouth, the cockatoo cocked its head and shimmied closer on it's perch. "Dr Chase." he snapped to attention, "Why don't you play us something on the piano?" Mrs Reichs asked.

"Ma'am, when I say I play poorly. I play poorly. Perhaps you could get Dr House to play for you." Chase panicked.

"But I want you to play." Mrs Reichs true side showed itself for today, "Please? As a gift for my birthday."

"Fine." Chase agreed half heartedly, "However if you're ears start to bleed, it wasn't my fault."

"I'm sure you don't play that badly." Mrs Reichs settled herself and set up a chess board.

Chase suppressed a snort as he carefully moved the bench back from under the piano, lifting the keyboard cover, he sat for a moment wondering what on earth he was suppose to play. Like a lover's unforgotten perfume, a memory stirred in the back of Chase's mind. A sweet melancholy melody that his mother had played on their piano day in and day out, before all their problems had started. She had attempted to teach him, but he never could seem to get it right. One minute it was too loud and boisterous and the next too soft and barely heard. Instead he sat back and listened to his mother play it, so beautifully oh so beautifully.

He lifted his arms and let his fingers gently rest on the keys, caressing the slippery black and white ivory he played. The first notes were played stiffly, with no little rainbows of colour in them. As he started to relax, Chase remembered his mother's soft voice and perfume, full of sunlight and lilies, teaching him. Gently the first phrase went by, with little error except a wrong note here and there, "I never knew you could play." a voice interrupted Chase from his deep thoughts.

He jumped and his fingers hit a wrong chord, causing a discord that rang loud in the room. Blushing deeply, he grinned embarrassed at the people who had turned, "Do you make a point in doing that every time you talk to someone?"

House gestured for Chase to scoot over, which he did. Sighing, House sat and leaned his cane against the black wood of the piano's supports, "No, not really. It's just you who seems the jumpiest. A little guilty are we?"

"No." Chase said and started playing.

House listened for a moment and joined in an octave higher, "Right..."

"Yup." Chase replied and concentrated on the song.

"You ever had a teacher for this?" House asked and winced at a wrong note played by Chase.

"No." he said shortly, not wanting to divulge any personal information with House.

"I did." House said as if they were old buddies, "I didn't like his thin voice and harsh jokes. But I got through it, all the way up from grade one to the damn performer's ARCT."

"Good for you." Chase said having no clue as to what House was talking about.

"Yeah, I wasted about...oh, thirteen years with that man. But he was a good teacher."

"Uhuh." Chase said his part faltering, putting his hands back in his lap he muttered, "That's all I know."

House nodded, finishing the final run of the song and imitated Chase by putting his hands in his lap, "That's pretty good without a teacher."

Chase shrugged, "Not for..." he didn't finish his sentence, instead he started playing a one hand melody, "Piano wasn't for me."

"Not then, but maybe now." House suggested.

"It never will be." Chase replied and doggedly kept playing his one handed song, which was only suit for a violin.

"You never know if you don't try." House said, "By the way, you're sitting wrong."

Chase's eyebrows furrowed and he looked down, one leg was tilted back under the bench and the other leg was at a ninety degrees with the piano keyboard. He slowly shifted his leg back under the keyboard, "See." House pointed and poked him in the small of his back, "No slouching."

Chase straightened his back and rolled his shoulders back, "No tense shoulders either. Relax." House patted Chase's shoulders which instantly dropped and relaxed.

"See you're learning." House said.

Chase looked up at House's blue eyes, "You really think so?" he whispered, something flickered in his now bright blue eyes something that looked remarkably like hope.

"I know so." House replied kindly.

Chase opened his mouth and was interrupted as Mrs Reichs stood up, "Well shall we let Dr Chase inspect the artwork outside?" she asked.

He turned and got up and dutifully followed Mrs Reichs and the crew of doctors to the first statue that stood just outside the hall, "Feel free to wander." Mrs Reichs said, "I want feedback when we meet again."

Chase strolled to the opposite end of the hallway and found himself intrigued by a twisted metal sculpture, Foreman appeared at his shoulder. A pause stretched between them before Foreman asked, "What is it?"

Eyes wide, Chase circled it once then twice, "I think it's suppose to be female, crossed over either with something reptilian and arachnid like or a scorpion. Or maybe I'm just completely off the mark."

"I think that's a more educated guess then I could make." Foreman bent to examine the brass plaque fixed to the statue's platform, "Women by Mr Richard Reichs. Wow, what an insult. I never even knew he was a sculptor."

"What's the bet it was influenced by his wife?" Chase quirked an eyebrow and studied the next sculpture approximately ten feet away.

"A pretty good chance." Foreman said, "Now what the heck is this?"

"This one I'm lost. I think it's a toad."

"No, toad's look more prettier." Foreman commented on the squat flat shaped creature glaring up at them in stony silence.

"Uhuh." Chase commented, "I have nothing good to say to Mrs Reichs about them."

"Me neither." Foreman said, wandering into another hallway.

Chase followed, "You know. I think I've heard of Mr R. Reichs the sculptor."

"Really." Foreman said in disbelief, "Who would want these pieces of junk?"

"You'd be surprised." Chase muttered darkly, "I think he makes millions annually on these pieces of junk. I believe my father..." a hard lump formed in his throat which he deftly swallowed, "Bought one. A small anubis like creature, it was in the trash by next morning."

"By you, I assume?"

"Let's just say, I have have better taste then this, even though it may not seem like it." Chase smiled referring to his colour clashing dress shirts and ties he wore to work on every day basis.

"Yeah. I can't believe people could and would spend billions for these."

"I think people who have nothing to do but sit on their asses all day want to seem well rounded. They believe that art, such as this will speak to them. When in turn they actually hate the damn thing and resent having spent millions on them. But they'll keep it in their house, probably tucked into a room where they rarely see unless they have guests over, because other people have them in their houses. It's kind of a peer pressure thing I guess."

Foreman shook his head, "Sad."

Chase nodded in agreement.

oOoOo

Two seemingly unending hours lately, Mrs Reichs saw them off. The gang slumped back, ruffled and exhausted from trying to entertain Mrs Reichs. Chase glanced back and winced as she waved a mile long pink sequenced cloth, which he assumed was a handkerchief. Sighing, he held his head in his hands. His elbows propped up against the window. Work seemed almost heaven to the unimaginable horrors they had faced in that house. Chase vowed if ever he was to be forced to a party like this again, he would commit suicide. He didn't care if he suffered in the burning flames of hell for it. No torture, could surpass the torture that Mrs Reichs had inflicted on them in those hours they spent in her house.


	13. Surgery

Sorry bout the lateness, but I haven't been feeling all that great lately. I got this pressure building behind my eyes and my nose looks like a red tomato. So yeah I apologize if this seems a bit OOC. (Groan)

**Rubix-Complex:** Lol, well at least this one is over 3000 words.

**AtreidesHeir: **We all love Chase torture.

**felixgirl:** Lol. About the Pride and Prejudice part, I have neither read the book or seen the movie, I'm ashamed I'm not caught up in recent movies. My friend pointed that out too (face meets palm)

**IluvLost9393:** Sorry to disappoint you but Chase doesn't get friendly with anyone in this story, maybe the next one.

**blasphamy6669:** Lol, any hot guy torture starts my day too.

**kpstar25: **Mwhahahaha (cough cough)

**isheebishee: **I agree with you whole heartedly.

I'll try to get the next one out soon, but my cold's kind of getting in the way of creative skills. Anyway please review.

* * *

Shadowed Guilt: Chapter Thirteen Surgery

House appeared in the diagnostic lounge and waved a file under Cameron's nose, she glared and then snatched it from him. Opening it, she glanced back at House, "I thought we already diagnosed Mr Reichs for TB."

Sighing, he sat heavily in a chair with wheels. Rolling over to the white board, he hung up his cane by the handle and pulled the cap off of a black marker with his teeth, "That was only part of the problem. Unless Chase gave him the wrong medication."

The blonde doctor turned from his crossword to glare at House, "I did not."

"You never know, the world and its children are corrupt. Every last one of them." House said seriously, rewriting the symptoms that had adorned it only days before. Plucking the file out of Cameron's hands, he ran a line through a couple of symptoms, "These are being treated by the rifatar that Chase is giving him right now. Which leaves not much to work with."

Cameron and Chase looked at the board covered in House's scrawl and raised an eyebrow. They could've been twins, with their blonde almost brown locks. Especially now that Cameron had re-dyed her hair to a lighter brown. "Where's Foreman?" House asked, diverting his attention back to the file. They shrugged as one and returned to their crosswords and articles. "Well aren't we helpful today?" House scowled and rolled into his office to use the phone, seconds later House's voice was booming through the halls, "Foreman, you get your chocolate 'A' double snakes up here right now and I mean now."

"'A' double snakes?" Chase asked.

Cameron chuckled at Chase's obliviousness and pondered about something in her article, "Don't worry you'll figure it out someday."

Chase frowned and muttered to himself, "Seven letter word for insensitive."

"Foreman." House replied rolling back through the blinds that separated his office from the conference room, "Or Gregory. I could go on all day."

"Starts with a C." Chase muttered.

"Claudel. I never liked the man." House answered deftly referring to the neuro surgeon.

Chase looked up, "I think I'll go with callous."

Foreman burst through the doorway, panting, his tie crooked much like Chase's. They all glanced up, "Oh, young man. You're in trouble." House scolded trying to sound like an overly cliched father.

"Sorry." Foreman breathed hard, adjusting his tie.

"So care to fill us in on where you have been for the last couple of days?" House asked.

With a man as dark as Foreman, you could never tell if he was blushing or not. The only real clue was if you watched the tips of his ears, they darkened to a passable shade of red. Chase and House stared at the tips of his ears, feeling their open gazes, Foreman blushed. House hooked his cane into Foreman's pocket and tugged, "Well, put your love affairs aside and actually focus on the patient for once."

"It's not an affair." Foreman sniffed, "We're engaged."

Chase spat out the tea he had procured from Mrs Reichs house and coughed to clear his throat. Cameron's mouth had dropped open and her pen fell out of her loose grasp. House had tilted his head back, eyes wide. "Whoa." House said, "I was just kidding."

Foreman's ears looked like a red hot stove. Chase reached over and patted him on the arm, "Don't worry. We all make stupid mistakes like that around House."

"So have you and mystery woman been doing each other in a closet or something? I don't think the janitor would take that lightly, knowing his supplies being soiled." House teased.

"When's the wedding?" Cameron asked, eyes bright, "Are we invited? Do we get to meet her?"

Foreman held up his hands in surrender to Cameron's onslaught of questions, "I think we all know Sharon."

"Oh." Chase said, "The drug rep?"

"Yes, the drug rep." Foreman sighed patiently, "The wedding's in a couple of weeks okay? Stop badgering me and yes, you're all invited."

"Oh goody." House sighed, "There better be champagne and wine and-"

"Other such alcoholic beverages." Chase smirked.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah." Foreman muttered, "Maybe you all should get together with Sharon. She's the one planning the whole shebang."

"Aw, so that's where you've disappeared off to these last couple of days. Being bothered by the soon-to-be-she-Foreman about big party plans." House's lip twitched, "I sympathize."

"When did you get engaged?" Cameron asked, finally picking up her pen to scribble out some more ethical rules broken by the procedure of such and such case.

"About a month ago." Foreman said, a small blissful smile on his face.

"And you kept it secret that long?" House exclaimed.

"Unlike some people, some are more observant then others." Foreman said clearly amused, "I would've thought that you would've known." He tipped his head towards the gold and black promise ring, inlaid with tiny diamonds that was sitting snug on his left ring finger, "It's been there for a while now."

"In my defense Cuddy had me babysitting too many fuzz heads for the last couple of weeks." House threw up his arms and indicated the people who walked into the clinic everyday.

"Right..." Foreman said with disbelief, "Although you do have a legitimate point there."

"See." House said.

"What about the patient?" Chase inquired mumbling over the pen in his mouth.

"Oh, yes." House exaggeratedly nodded, "We must treat the man with the money bags before Cuddy starts playing strip poker with Wilson." the three ducklings tilted their heads at House with questioning looks on their faces, "Oh never mind." House threw up his hands, "You're all just plain clueless."

"Wilson's trying to get Cuddy?" Foreman asked, pursuing the subject.  
"Not yet. But it's a matter of time." House said smugly tapping his chin with the marker, "He always marries his rebound girls."

"You got to be kidding me." Foreman said having unpleasant pictures of Dr's James Wilson and Lisa Wilson, "Isn't she a bit old for him?"

"Ohhh." House said, "Burn a plenty."

"Amazing." Chase said loosening his tie some more, "Our minds wander fairly quickly for intrigued doctors."

House grabbed the marker and threw it at Chase, who nearly caught it twice before it clattered to the floor, "You're suppose to be good at the catching part." House informed Chase sarcastically, "What's the matter? Can't focus?"

"Something like that." Chase muttered, but House didn't catch it as he turned back to the board.

"Okay, people. We'll start testing for the other things, although I think we can discount syphilis." House rolled over to the coffee maker to pour himself a cup of coffee, "I'm sure Chase is sick of testing the rich guy's testicles already."

Cameron nodded left, Foreman followed closely. Chase stood slowly, stretching his tired muscles. House stopped him by poking his cane into Chase's shin, Chase looked down at the offending piece of wood, "What?" he said sullenly, clipping the pen back into his lab coat pocket.

"I want you to observe in Mr Cartier's awake brain surgery." House said staring intently at Chase's face.

Chase paled ever so slightly, "Sure fine." he slipped on his plastic smile that House had learned from months of experience to finally tag, "No problem. I'll go scrub in right now."

"Then I want you to monitor him for the rest of the day and night." House shot at Chase carefully.

Grinning, Chase did a one shoulder shrug, "Sure."

House scrutinized Chase as he dipped into his pockets for his vicodin pill bottle, popping one he noticed Chase's slight shaking. It was so slight that someone who wasn't looking for anything unusual in particular would've missed it completely. It wasn't just the hands, it seemed like it was Chase's whole being who was shivering like somebody had turned on the AC too much for the Aussie's liking. "Are you sure?" House asked seemingly unconcerned, "You're shivering like your stuck out in the snow without your jacket on."

Chase averted his eyes and looked at glanced down upon himself, "It's nothing. I was just helping Nurse Brenda at lunch, carrying heavy boxes."

Anyone else but House would've left it at that, but House was House and he recognized Chase's lie like a vulture would a rotting corpse. Shifting back, he smiled up at Chase, it seemed almost predatory, "Now, we both know that's a big fat lie. So why don't you be a good seminary boy and tell the truth to Uncle House?"

"You always say that everybody lies. How do you know if I'd be telling the truth or not?" Chase asked, "Isn't Cartier's surgery starting any moment now?"

"No." House said hanging his cane on the white board behind him, "You still got a couple of hours. So why don't you have a seat and let fire a million different lies?"

Chase's brow furrowed and a perplexed look appeared on his face, "Why do you care?"

"You're never going to get a straight answer out of me." House laced his fingers, "Besides I like puzzles."

"Is that why you keep me around?" Chase asked quietly, "You haven't solved me yet?"

"Maybe that's part of the charity." House raised an eyebrow.

"Charity?" the tone became quieter, "You keeping me around is charity?"

"Everybody lies." House shrugged, suddenly backing off from the sensitive spot he had just hit.

Chase scoffed, "Everybody lies, except for you. That's what you always say, maybe it's true after all." he turned and shut the glass door forcibly behind him.

House frowned, another way not to approach his fellow duckling about personal problems, maybe he should take Wilson's advice after all. Stop talking every few seconds so the other person can actually talk. Then that would be qualified as a decent conversation.

oOoOo

Chase scrubbed at his hands with soap and stared through the glass windows into the operating room, surgeons and nurses dressed in blue knee length scrubs already were prepping Cartier for the next hours of surgery that lay ahead of them. He glanced down at his hands and winced, they were red and raw from him standing there for the last few minutes scrubbing them forcibly. Rinsing his hands off, he grabbed a paper towel and turned off the tap. Chase grabbed a mask and placed it under his chin and tied the back so it dangled like an extremely gaudy necklace. Grabbing a scrub cap, he carefully tucked his blonde hair under the concealing light blue material. Placing the mask over his mouth and nose, he pinched the bridge of his nose to make sure the mask stayed in place while he tied the top part of the mask. Tugging on the knee length scrub dress, he always thought he was wearing it backwards, but he guessed it was so the blood didn't seep into the slight opening the ties at the back provided. Nodding to a nurse, she pulled the surgical gloves over each of his hands. This way would hopefully prevent cross contamination that would affect the patient in any way.

Nodding to the head surgeon, House's supposedly arched enemy Dr Claudel, Chase walked over out of Cartier's line of sight, "I'm anesthetizing him first." Claudel said, even though they both knew the procedure, Claudel liked talking things out first, "Then I'm going to bring him back to the surface when I'm ready. I need you to talk to him."

"Why me?" Chase asked and managed to get a quick glance of House's face through the observatory station above the OR.

Claudel looked at him strangely, it was not unheard of an intensivist to talk to a patient in an awake brain surgery while the other doctors did their work. Chase had no qualms to talking to the a patient and searching for signs of disorientation, but he just didn't want to do it with this particular patient. Claudel although smart and entirely too brilliant for his own good, was oblivious to anything outside of his little world. Which basically narrowed his world down to the open brain before him in a surgery, outside of surgery he was devoted to paperwork and other neuro surgery related topics. Obviously he hadn't heard about the small incident, which involved both the patient in question and Chase crashing through one of the glass walls in the ICU wing. Claudel stared at Chase, "Is it too much to ask?"

"No, it's just that..."

"You're feeling lazy and don't want to do anything but observe up close and personal the intricate workings of the brain?" Claudel asked, Chase wasn't sure if the man was joking or not.

"Never mind." Chase shrugged, "I'm just a little...preoccupied right now."

"That's not a good thing to bring into an OR especially mine." Claudel scolded, "People have been known to make stupid and preventable mistakes that led to the patient dieing because their whole mind wasn't in the zone."

Chase resisted the urge to roll his eyes, he couldn't count the number of times he had heard the exact same lecture, he had to admit it was getting old. Claudel continued with his little rant which Chase was sure he had memorized or at least written it down somewhere. He zoned out and stared at a point directly overhead of Claudel's bulky six foot frame and nodded at the appropriate moments, he thanked God that he was wearing a mask so Chase wouldn't have smiled until he could literally feel his face cracking into two pieces.

A voice blared through the intercom of the room, effectively starting every doctor and nurse in the OR. Even Cartier who had just been put under the spell of an anesthetic, rolled his head in discomfort and startlement, "Okay people." House's voice boomed into the still air, "The sooner we start, the sooner we get this done."

House may be a pain in the ass for Chase, but this time Chase had to give him credit from saving the OR from a boring hour of 'Why you shouldn't come into my OR without a clear mind lecture'. But then again if Chase followed Claudel's line of thought, what was he doing here anyway? He had been up more then twenty four hours and should be home in bed sleeping what was left of the day away. He shrugged to himself and made himself scarce as the doctor's that specialized in this kind of surgery stepped up and did their thing.

Claudel drilled his way into Cartier's skull, when he had full access to his brain, Claudel nodded to the anesthesiologist to wake him up. Chase stepped up as Cartier's eyelids started to flicker, "Mr Cartier, can you hear me?"

Cartier blinked rapidly, clearing his muddled thoughts and glanced around, "Well this is sophisticated stuff."

"We need you to keep talking, can you do that for us?" Chase asked glancing behind Cartier's head where Claudel muttered instructions to his assistant.

"About what?" Cartier's eyes closed momentarily, "I'm not exactly a chatter box in surgery."

"About anything." Chase shrugged, slowly relaxing. Cartier did not remember that little incident in his hospital room days before, "Sports, girls, whatever."

"You make guys sound so cliche." Cartier smile seemingly unaware that Claudel was now staring inside his head and prodding it ever so gently.

Chase snorted, "You wouldn't believe the guys back in my home town." a sudden sweep of homesickness engulfed Chase, he pushed it back, "They'd go non stop about a certain girlfriend or a certain sport that was in season. Fortunately or unfortunately for me depending on how you look at it, I had no clue as to what they were ranting about."

Cartier laughed slightly, "I use to not have a TV at home. So I was never caught up with the latest episodes of...Friends or something equally as pointless as that."

"You read a lot?" Chase asked, glancing once again at Claudel who was tapping something but Chase couldn't get a good look considering the sheet that shrouded the back of Cartier's head obscured his view.

"Do I look like a bookworm to you?" Cartier smiled, "Just because I had no TV doesn't mean I would turn to those musty books they had stored in that big old library back home. Now my sis..." he stumbled, "Book...love..."

"Cartier?" Chase asked alarmed, "Dr Claudel?"

"Just a minute." Claudel grunted as Cartier continued mumbling random words, "I can get it..."

"You're going to give him brain damage." more then one doctor in the room shouted as Cartier's blood pressure dropped abnormally low.

Claudel sweated at the decision he was about make, brain damage or death. He chose brain damage, everyone stared intently at the monitors as it gave off irritated beeps. "Dr Claudel, pull out." Cuddy's voice boomed into the frenzied room.

Claudel gave in and attempted to pull out, Cameron's voice whispered into the room, "That's way too much blood." she sounded teary and for a good reason.

As Claudel pulled the last of his surgical tools out, the monitor flat lined. Chase rushed over to help, he started pumping Cartier's chest, but to no avail the monitor still emanated its ominous tone. Dropping his hands, he thought of Elena and how he could not save her, a flash of anger rose through him and his fist pounded into Cartier's chest. Miraculously the monitor started beeping slowly and unsteadily, but it was a heart beat. Chase was stunned as the nearest doctors and nurses gave him a pat on the back, Cuddy's voice boomed on the intercom, "Good job, Dr Chase. Dr Claudel please pull back and reassign surgery for tomorrow."

Claudel sighed as he busily reattached the skull cap and the surrounded skin and hair, it would cause the hospital thousands maybe millions over this fumbled surgery. But there was nothing to do as of now, nothing much to complain about. No brain damage, no dead patient.


	14. Resignation

I smell like saw dust (happiness)...random but meh. Anyways sorry bout the lateness of this one, but I got tackled by another bunny and was forced at gun point by it to write a one shot. You faithful peoples should go check it out. (Sorry bout the bad grammer, I blame my english teacher and his "Shedule." instead of schedule.) And damn it, I gotta change the summary. (fumes) I hate summaries.

**Rubix-Complex:** Awww, you hold a grudge. Thankz.

**blasphamy6669:** Thankz and lol it seems that a lot of people don't like Cartier.

**felixgirl:** (Rolling on the floor laughing head off.)

**chase88:** Updating. (Salutes.)

Awww, that's it? What happened to all the other reviews? (Looks under a book.) Please review or I'm going to have Chase hurt himself. (Okay, that's not exactly a threat but it works.)

* * *

Shadowed Guilt: Chapter Fourteen Resignation

Chase groaned as he bent over to grab a bottle of water out of the vending machine, his whole body ached and would probably continue to ache for the remainder of the day. Unscrewing the cap off of the bottled water, he leant against the vending machine and took a sip. Scrubbing at his eyes, he blinked blearily up at a flickering light. Taking another sip, he watched it blink once, twice, then dim to a quarter of its original light capacity. As he started walking down the hallway, Chase found himself humming. It was a catchy little tune he had picked up from one of his patients in ICU. He couldn't remember which one, it seemed like a haze right now. In truth, he didn't care. They were patients and as long as he could treat them, be useful, he didn't think himself pathetic.

He had screwed up his life, Chase admitted it, took all the blame on his shoulders. But they were crushing his soul under their weight and he had already cracked a long time ago. Why did he hold on when there was nothing left? Was it to treat people who needed it? If it was why wasn't he working in one of those free clinics in the city's desperate and poorer district? Maybe it was to impress people as to how he could uphold the crumbling name of his household. But why was he thousands of miles away from his home in Australia? No matter how he looked at it he was just one of the screw ups in the world which shouldn't have been born. All he did was bring misery to everyone he touched, closing himself off from them had helped little. They now tried to reach in. Why couldn't they just leave well enough alone? Why couldn't they make up their minds? Did they want him? Or did they reach to him because it would soothe their bleeding hearts?

He blinked and cleared the nonsense running through his mind. Chase found himself staring through the glass wall into Mr Reichs' room, he looked behind him and shook his head. He had seemingly walked through three floors, these mind blanks were happening more often and he found them quite disturbing. Glancing through the glass, Chase summarized the faithful and vigilant Mrs Reichs was off somewhere doing only God knows what. Taking it as an opportunity, he stepped inside.

Mr Reichs looked out miserably from under his tangled dark hair, his eyes were red from the lack of sleep he had been getting due to the pain. One side of his face was swollen and drool leaked out from the corner of his chapped lips. "Mr Reichs." Chase greeted and narrowed his eyes at the glare from the light.

Mr Reichs raised two fingers of his right hand in acknowledgment and breathed nosily. Chase placed his right palm on the light switch and dimmed it until it was nearly pitch black, "I hope you don't mind. Light is an enemy to my migraine." It wasn't a migraine, but since when had Chase last told the whole truth about himself to anyone?

Reichs cocked his head and shrugged a shoulder. Chase dragged a chair to the darkest spot he could find that still encircled the patient's bed. Reichs slowly raised an arm and gestured to Chase's forehead. Confused, Chase raised a hand to his hairline and felt the ugly scar that slashed it's way down from his forehead to a millimeter from his right temple. He smiled reassuringly, "One of my patients crashed through one of those glass walls taking me with him. It wasn't fun."

Reichs seemed to take that explanation as truth. Chase crossed his legs, "I seriously need to know and this won't go back to your wife, but you are sure you haven't been to Central America?"

A pause followed as he reached for a pad of paper on his night stand, he wrote slowly then showed it to Chase, 'No.'

"An affair?" Chase asked.

'I wish.' Reichs wrote, 'Try having an affair with someone while your wife is standing at most a foot away from you at all times.'

"I see." Chase sympathized, "Do you smoke?"

Reichs nodded. Chase shifted in his chair, "What kind?"

'If I told you, I'd be arrested.'

"You smoke Cuban?" Chase asked quietly, "Do you know where they come from?"

Reichs shrugged and wrote in his flowing script, 'My wife receives them and passes them on to me.'

Chase nodded deep in thought. A clopping of heels could be heard from outside the room. Chase hurriedly grabbed the paper Reichs had been writing on, crumpled it and shoved it into his lab coat pocket. A second later the air was filled with the stifling scent of one of the most expensive perfumes this side of the Atlantic Ocean. "Dr Chase?" Mrs Reichs asked blinking owlishly in the dark, "What are you doing here sitting in the dark?"

Chase opened his mouth and glanced at Mr Reichs for help, but the bastard had closed his eyes and pretended to sleep. "Mrs Reichs." Chase greeted and grabbed Mr Reichs wrist and pretended to check the heart rate, "I'm just checking up on your husband."

"I see." Mrs Reichs said sitting down slowly, "Is it true Dr House was wrong with his first diagnosis?"

"Yes and no." Chase said, "Often the first diagnosis proves incorrect or not all the variables are there. In this case, your husband, does have TB and we are treating it however he has a secondary disease that the TB had hidden. Right now we're just trying to figure out what it is."

"Is there anything else you could give him for the pain?" Mrs Reichs asked, "He's in pain constantly and frankly twenty milligrams of morphine doesn't take the edge off."

"I'm sorry." Chase said as his hand extinctively curled around a needle full of lorazepam, "But your husband has already maxed out on morphine, any more and he could have...problems."

"Problems?" Mrs Reichs scoffed, "What can be worse then the pain?"

"He could get addicted." Chase reasoned, he should know, "Then if he's lucky he can be weaned off it without too much damage to his organs. Worse case scenario is he accidentally overdoses on morphine. It's touchy, especially with drugs, you never know what'll happen."

Mrs Reichs sighed and sat down and rubbed her feet, "Is there anything stronger?"

Chase shrugged, "The only other thing that I can think of is to put your husband into a chemically induced coma, however we'd need his consent."

"Really." Mrs Reichs' eyes lit up.

"But of course there are risks." Chase murmured trying to pop Mrs Reichs' bubble without success, "Your husband might never wake up from it."

Mrs Reichs pouted, "Oh well. I'll confer with my husband."

"I'll leave you two to it." Chase smiled skittishly and backed out of the room.

oOoOo

Chase was hanging around the gallery watching Cartier's brain surgery along with a dozen other nurses and doctors. To his immense surprise and partial relief Cameron wasn't there with her eyes practically glued to the glass. Cameron had been called earlier for a consult with one of her fellow immunologist, the immunologist who was new to this hospital seemed to be having a hard time getting back into her rhythm of doing things. Chase had once witnessed Cameron giving her coaching skills on what was appropriate to wear to work, Chase had turned tail and ran.

His pager disturbed the intense silence in the gallery, people turned to glare at him. Raising a hand as if Chase was asking for a truce, he escaped outside to read his page. Placing the object back into his pocket, he hurried up a couple of floors to the ICU wing where Mr Reichs room was. He poked his head inside and found himself staring at House's cane, "What?" he asked feeling slightly dizzy.

House grabbed his arm and maneuvered him out of the room where Mr and Mrs Reichs sat patiently, "You told them they had an option of putting Reichs under?" House sounded angry and Chase didn't know why.

"I guess." Chase trailed off totally confused.

"Why?" House hissed, "We need him to make his own medical judgments. I don't trust that Bambi lady. Now that that vile woman has convinced her feeble brained idiot of a husband to sign that stupid form, Cuddy's going to be jumping down my throat."

"Just convince him to change his medical proxy." Chase shrugged.

House shook his head in disbelief, "Who's going to do that? Me? You?"

"I don't know." Chase said slightly alarmed as House had grabbed his tie and had pulled him close to snarl in his face.

"You don't know?" House nearly shouted, "You don't know? Why don't you ever think? Why do I even bother having you hang around here? You're next to useless."

Chase could tell that House was being deprived of his precious vicodin and the stale smell of whiskey on his breath clued Chase in on the fact that House had a major hangover, but that didn't stop the words from piercing straight through to his heart. Chase dropped his eyes and mumbled something under his breath. House shook him roughly, "What did you say?"

"I'm sorry." Chase spat, "That I disappoint you so much, I'll relieve you of my presence that you so despise." he ripped his identification tag from his lab coat pocket and threw it at House along with his lab coat, as he stomped away he shouted behind him, "You'll get a copy of my letter of resignation tomorrow."

Chase didn't glance back at House who was holding the coat dumbstruck, he stormed to his locker and emptied what few items there were in there and raced to his car. He could feel tears prickling in his eyes, but he firmly wiped them away. Resting his head on the steering wheel, he breathed deeply. Once his breathing was under control and his heart stopped pounding so wildly, he started the car and drove off.

oOoOo

Chase was sitting at a red light, his leg spasming like mad. Biting his lips until he could feel the copper taste of blood invade his mouth, he struggled with the decision he was about to make. The slight twitch of pain in his stomach decided it for him as he flipped the left turn signal on, Chase hated himself for it. Memories of his drunken mother screaming out how pathetic he was, surfaced into his mind, 'Well, mum.' Chase thought cynically, 'I'm damned to Hell no matter how you look at it.'

Parking his car a ways away from his intended destination, he got out and turned the car's security system on. Chase walked and shivered in the stiff wind, but stubbornly kept going. Freezing would be better then having people knowing how weak he was. Chase strolled casually down the street which were populated by the homeless, occasionally he would flip some coins in one of their chipped mugs or whatever they used to collect their cash they made. Some would favour him with a dirty, yellowed smile. Others looked at him suspiciously. But Chase didn't notice, his focus was on the flora that surrounded the bare going brown park. He could make out kids bouncing a basketball over the graveled tarmac, grannies taking their afternoon stroll. No one would believe that murders and beatings took place after dark.

Chase inconspicuously scanned the park from under his lashes as he started to stroll along a graveled pathway. A man appeared from behind a large scarred tree covered with graffiti carvings over its magnificent trunk. The man leaned against it looking at Chase pointedly, his dark hair was greased back a small moustache covered his upper lip, dark gleaming sly eyes canvassed the park for more of his clients. Seeing only Chase, the man zeroed back onto his face. Palming a ten out of his pocket, Chase reached out to the man's hand who exchanged the money with a small plastic baggie full of white powder. As Chase turned to leave, the man caught his arm. He leaned in close, his horrible breath stinging Chase's nostrils, "I got a new shipment. Do you wanna taste?"

Chase's eyes flickered nervously through the park searching for the police that were patrolling the grounds, seeing none he relaxed, "No. This will do me fine."

"I'll give you some for free." the man enticed.

Chase winced, if the dealer wanted to give him a drug for free then he would be making a lot more money in the future, "No." Chase stated firmly.

The dealer just smiled his horribly stained teeth and slid something into Chase's coat pocket, "Just in case you change your mind."

Chase blinked and left. He would trash it before he could be tempted to try it, he crossed the street and flinched as a car came screaming past. Scowling, he continued. Another car came within inches of hitting him, Chase slammed his hand on their hood and shouted obscenities at the driver, which were returned. Shivering, Chase hurriedly back to his car. He had waited too long and could feel the effects of withdrawal closing in on him. Opening the little baggie, he took a sniff and could instantly feel the pain backing off. Wiggling his nose, he zipped the baggie back up and started the car.


	15. Slow

AN's note at the bottom cause it'svery very long.

Please review, I'll try get the another chapterwritten soon.

* * *

Shadowed Guilt: Chapter Fifteen Slow

Taking the near empty scenic routes home, Chase squinted his eyes and drove slowly. The trees, flowers, parked cars, and houses molded together into one giant blur of colour. Bright neon lights streaked across his eyesight. Chase was starting to regret his brief high he had allowed himself earlier. The road turned into a tar pit, sweat poured down Chase's back as he felt the car sinking. "It's not real. It's not real. It's not real." Chase continued his muttered litany and squeezed his eyes shut momentarily.

Lights sparked behind his lids creating swirls of beautiful blues that his mother used to like. Opening them once again, Chase was relieved that the road had turned back to normal. But a miniature monster had plunked itself down on the middle of it. Realizing what it was, Chase swerved and stepped on the break peddle hard. Parking his car with little incident, he stumbled out.

What he had first thought was a monster was in fact a grey black striped cat who was enjoying the heat that was being expelled from the heat absorbent tar into its fur. Catching himself on the car door, he stumbled over. The cat gazed up at him with lazy eyes, it narrowed them from the pleasurable heat on its belly. "You know you could get run over." Chase squatted and engaged the cat in a one sided conversation in the middle of the deserted road. "Then you'd make me feel guilty all over again." He reached between the cat's ears and scratched the silky fur, "Are you a stray?" Chase didn't feel a collar around the cat's neck, so he picked the cat up and placed him on the back seat of the car.

Parking in his designated spot, Chase gazed at the cat who stared back. He had reached the climax of his high and would stay pleasantly buzzed for the next few hours, although he was more sober then he had been before. It still didn't stop him from picking up the cat and saying, "They don't allow pets into the apartment." he watched as the tail twitched, "But I'll sneak you up if you want."

Without waiting for an answer he bundled the cat into his coat, the cat made a huge fuss. Holding the wriggling bundle to his chest, Chase headed up the stone steps and peeked in through the glass door. The security guard was no where to be seen, he slipped inside and headed towards the elevator. Chase saw the sign that said, 'OUT OF ORDER.' He quickly averted his path and headed upstairs.

With the familiar door finally at his back, Chase unfolded his jacket and watched the cat drop four legged on the ground. With a twitch of it's tail, it glared at him and stalked proudly to the window ledge where sunlight streamed inside. Chase shook out his jacket and dropped on the leather couch, "You know, I can't keep calling you Cat or It all day." he gazed at the cat before grabbing it and checking its genitalia. It hissed and spit at him, the claws coming out in self defense, Chase placed it back on the ledge. "A girl. How do you like..." he trailed off to rub the side of her head, "Aliya? It's the name of a cat I had once."

The cat didn't do anything but lean into the gentle rub that Chase gave her, "Your shortened name could be Ali."

The newly christened Aliya, turned and settled down for a nap in the afternoon sun. Chase headed unsteadily for the kitchen, the neon lights flashing every few seconds, he opened the fridge and dug out a jug of milk that hadn't yet expired and poured it into a shallow dish. He put it on the floor and stared, dazed, out of the window, snapping back to his senses he lowered the blinds. Tomorrow he would visit the pet store to buy some cat food and kitty litter, he had enough saved up to live scantily for the rest of his life, however if he didn't want stingy then he would have to find himself another job. It wouldn't be too hard, he'd jump the border to another state, country, or maybe back to Australia. Maybe he'd get himself into a year of rehab, kick the habit and get a fresh start. Nobody would question his disappearance by all pretenses all of his father's money and estates had been left to him and his formidable step mother when in truth it had been donated to this big fancy church, nobody bothered to correct the false belief of Rowan Chase's will.

Passing the couch, he reached over and scratched Ali between the ears, "Milk's in the kitchen." he whispered willing the cat to understand, "I'm going to take a shower and watch all the pretty colours swirl."

oOoOo

House made himself scarce for the remainder of the day. Cuddy holed herself up in her office pretending to do paperwork and for the first time in a long while, she didn't bother to go and find House then drag him into the clinic. Cameron, Foreman, and Wilson had all heard about the heated argument which ended in Chase quitting, but they couldn't get away from their patients to do anything about it. The nurses were busy mourning the loss of one of the finer doctors to the hospital. Some of them, particularly the female ones that worked shifts in ICU and the NICU, had even gone as far as to brag about how close they had come to hooking Chase.

At the end of the day House's mood was so sour that he could actually feel himself being dragged through the floorboards into the depths of hell. Mrs Reichs had called at least five times about the chemically induced coma and seemed oblivious that Chase had quite, for she asked constantly for the blonde doctor. Just thinking about it made House want to snap his cane in half with his bare hands, but right now it wasn't physically possible for him to do so, so he just contented himself by gripping the handle of his cane as hard as he could. The ache of his right hand thrummed in time with the fiery pain in his right leg. Cursing Wilson, who had raided his apartment and office of House's precious vicodin supply, he limped towards the elevator. Digging in his leather jacket pocket, House came up with one measly half emptied orange container. Balancing it one hand, he hit the down button on the elevator with the tip of his cane. A second later the bottle was slipped back into his pocket, better save it while it lasted.

Just as the elevator doors closed, Wilson slipped in. House sighed and turned back to looking at the glowing red numbers that indicated which floor they were on. Wilson wound a black scarf around his neck, "Are you going?"

"Where to? Hell? Yeah I am." House answered with a tight voice.

"To apologize to Chase?" Wilson tried again.

"I don't get it." House's expressive eyebrows furrowed, "I've called him pathetic many times before, I don't get why he's taking all this so personally."

"Remember that last time? He went to Vogler."

"He was trying to save his job. This time he up and quit." House muttered, "I don't get it. If he likes this place so much, why'd he quit? He could've I don't know, transferred."

"You wouldn't allow that either." Wilson reminded him, "Remember...oh what's his name...Dr Peters. That fellow before Chase, he quit and went up to psychology. You went there everyday and confessed your sins for wanting to sleep with him."

House smirked at the memory of Dr Peters horrified looks, finally Dr Peters transferred to some obscure hospital in Seattle. "Hey, it's not my fault he's homophobic."

Wilson scoffed, "But you weren't remember? You made it a big deal that you were sleeping this one girl you picked up at this bar."

"Ah, Mandy. She was good in bed, but then she had to go back West." House sighed.

"I thought you called her your...how did you put it, 'Wittle Mandy Poo.'" Wilson chuckled as the elevator doors opened to admit a couple of nurses.

House gave him the death glare, they didn't talk for the rest of the elevator ride down. As the elevator spewed out people on the ground floor, House limped out the door taking his sweet time. Finally he turned to Wilson, "If I'm to apologize to him and beg Chase on knees to come back, I'm dragging you along for the ride."

Wilson shrugged and held his arms away from his body, "I'm free now. Want to surprise a wombat?"

"I thought you had an engagement tonight." House muttered at his bad luck.

"Yeah, with Julie's lawyer. I swear she's trying to suck me dry." Wilson wiggled his bushy eyebrows suggestively.

"Oh, bad mental images." House groaned.

Wilson laughed as he did before he was shackled to the walls of marriage. Wincing House moved towards his bike, Wilson stopped him, "I am not going in that."

"What? Why?" House asked, "It's exhilarating."

"For you maybe." Wilson raised an eyebrow, "But not me. I'm always afraid I'll be flung off. I'll follow in my car and don't exceed the speed limit House. The police will catch you one day and if we're lucky they'll squish you with their black and white cars."

"You're so mean, Jimmy."

"That's what friends are for, tease you into a good mood so we don't have to fear your wraith." Wilson smiled gently, "Let's go before you lose your nerve."

"I don't ever lose my nerve." House said pointedly.

"I seem to remember you bailing when Mrs Reichs approached you this evening. I believe there still is a spot left in the Special Olympics for you to qualify in the 100 meter dash."

"Why God do you hate me so much?" House stared at the gathering darkness above his head, "Is it because I challenged you? Or is it because I grew up to be a mean bastard?"

Wilson patted his back sympathetically, "God spins a web and so do you. It's just your web is a bit more poisonous."

"I think I'll go and have a chat with Lucifer, I doubt he would be happy that you left him out." House walked over to his bike and yelled as he started the engine, "Eat my dust."

"I very well will." Wilson said cynically.

oOoOo

As Wilson drove up and parked along the side of the street, he could see House sitting on the top step that led into the apartment. Wilson slowly got out, pulling the jacket tighter around his immediately chilled body. House tapped his cane impatiently, "I'd would've thought you had turned into a snail."

"My car can't weave around people in the nightly traffic jams and I actually obey the rules, I don't gun it every time I see a damn yellow light."

"You'll learn how to drive someday, Jimmy." House grabbed Wilson's offered hand and pulled himself up, "If there are any more damn steps, I'm gonna kill myself."

The glass door happened to be locked shut unless you had a key or was buzzed through by the tenant you were going up to see, House grumbled and searched his pockets. His hand surfaced with a small silver key which he inserted, giving a nod to the night guard who was staring at him suspiciously, he limped to the elevator. Seeing the sign posted on it, House's shoulders slumped, "You have got to be kidding me."

"Out of order." Wilson smirked from behind him, "I guess you have to take yourself up on that offer you made yourself."

House stared up the sweeping staircase, "Do you have some vicodin handy?"

Wilson dug in his pockets, "Yeah."

"Good. Cause we're going to need a lot of it. Damn Chase, why does he have to live on the top floor?"

"I'm going to take that as a non-rhetorical question." Wilson said and started tramping up the stairs.

House sighed, tucking the cane under his arm, he grabbed the railing with both hands and started hopping on his left leg up the stairs in hopes of sparing his right leg some pain. But every time he landed, he could feel a quick jolt of pain. At the first landing, House sat down hard and swallowed two white pills. Wilson waited patiently for the drugs to kick in, "This is going to take forever." House moaned, "Another...what is it...ten...nine floors?"

"Nine." Wilson corrected, "Chase's apartment or loft as you might call it takes up the whole tenth floor."

"That's still ten."

"Well not really. You already made it to floor one didn't you?"

"You have a valid point."

* * *

I'm SO SORRY for not updating for the last couple of weeks, it's been totally hectic over here. First off, everybody seems to celebrate their birthdays in May including me and my sis and a couple dozen of my friends (I'm joking I don't have that many) so I here I am setting up surprise birthday parties all over the place when the weather decides to go wonky. Now it's like in the middle of July instead of the middle of May, I also got a nice tan going which I don't exactly want but meh. I can't think when it's hot, I get sleepy and cranky at the same time. Not exactly the best of combinations. To top it off I had a English PAT (Provincial Achievement Test) to write, which I'm sure I'm failed because I didn't read the instructions. (Face meets palm)

Rubix-Complex: I'm not sure if I'm ending the story before or after he comes back to work, but I do think he will. I'm adding chapters at the speed of a snail. (smiles)

evilchild666: Hate to disappoint but he's not on crack, he's on the other white powder. Well he's resigned for now and I'm glad you like it, the story would've eventually wound its way to this point either way, I just took the more dramatic and shorter way.

Padfoot n' Moony: Lol, he needs to be spanked.

blasphamy6669: Actually not coke but resigning, yes. And of course House finds him before it's too late, I'm the person who follows all the cliches.

Camlost: Lol, we can only hope. Welcome to the world of House fanfiction btw, it's a fine world.

sleepyheathen: Ahhhh. (runs around) Chase-angst to the rescue.

felixgirl: (pat pat)

madamwolf: My pleasure.

kpstar25: If I had, I would've felt sooooo guilty and came back with this massive last chapter thing just to finish it off. Talk bout OCD huh?

Dybdahl: Nothing good I can assure you.


	16. Intoxication

Happy 666...that's all I'm going to say until you get to the bottom.

Read. Be happy. And in that little euphoric moment...Review!

* * *

Shadowed Guilt: Chapter Sixteen Intoxication

House collapsed while making his slow painful way up the sixth floor stairs. Wilson, who was climbing the stairs behind him just to make sure that this exact scenario didn't happen, caught him. However the extra weight threw him off balance and had both him and House tumbling down the stairs once again. They came to a painful rest on the sixth floor landing, Wilson moaned as House's cane bored its way into his rib cage. House, who would deny this to his grave, whimpered and clutched his right leg. The pain was almost unbearable. Wilson managed to maneuver his hand into his jacket pocket without molesting House, who was using Wilson as a seat cushion, and offered him a nearly empty orange pill bottle. Realizing that he was practically sitting on Wilson, House crawled off of him. Wilson rolled over on his stomach and slowly got up. Massaging his back, he watched House take the last of the vicodin. "Are you sure you're not going to keel over from vicodin intoxication?" Wilson asked and sat down on the steps.

"I've had like...what? Twenty vicodin?" House leaned on the wall opposite to Wilson, "It's possible, but then my system is use to my intake of vicodin. So..." he trailed off looking for the right word, "The most likely effect from all these pills would be me getting high. I would happily embrace the feeling of momentary euphoria, however it's not working. So you're stuck with grumpy me for the next four or so flights of stairs."

Wilson got up and stretched his sore muscles, "I'm going to go see if the elevator works." he left House splayed out on the opposite side of the landing.

House made a noise that was a cross between 'urgh' and 'bastard.' Rolling his shoulders, he pulled himself up into a painless position. Tipping his head back, House amused himself by counting the thin cracks that old age and the cold had done to the ceiling. Getting bored, he stared at the floor, it was a pasty whitish yellow that some cheap interior designer had painted over the hard wooden floor. The railings were next on the list of House's scrutiny, the blue paint was chipping off to show their rusted contents beneath. Wilson interrupted House's musings by bursting through the landing's pale grey door, "The elevator actually works!" he exclaimed.

"Son of a-"

"Come on." Wilson interrupted, "It's near midnight right now and I'm too tired to hear you complain."

House grumbled and gave the doors of the elevator a good whack as he went in, Wilson avoided the furiously flying cane and pressed the cool plastic number that was decorated with an acrylic black 10. The button turned orange and the elevator hummed quietly as they felt the confining box they were in rise swiftly and as gently as possible upwards. Silence stretched between them, it wasn't an awkward one, but a comfortable one where their conversation could be told by their eyebrows. Wilson raised an eyebrow as the elevator dinged pleasantly as they reached the floor which Chase lived. House hesitated slightly before nodding and limped out in front.

The hall was a narrow dreary grey, only two doors decorated it. One led out to those treacherous flights of stairs and another stood a little bit off center, it was a varnished oak door with a polished gold colored door knob. There were no numbers marring the simple elegance of the door. House turned and felt a sudden urge to run, or in his case limp, for it. Wilson placed a hand on the opposite wall effectively blocking House's exit, "You're here now." Wilson steered him towards the door, "You've been dragging me for about four hours around this place and tried to kill both of us more then once. You're not going to waste all that hard work because you're scared. You have an obligation, if not to yourself, but to Chase, to apologize. Just because you're feeling a little bit mad at the world, you don't take it out on people. Every action has a reaction. This resulted from your need to lash out, now you have to face the consequences and fix it."

"Wow." House finally managed, "You sound like a goddamn shrink."

"House." Wilson chuckled, "I work in the Oncology Department. It's a general rule over there to learn how to analyze people."

"Well apparently you're doing something wrong." House said with a touch of light sarcasm.

"What's that." Wilson leaned on the door.

"My leg-"

House was cut off as Wilson landed heavily on his backside and muffled a shout of surprise. The door had swung open as Wilson had applied his weight on it, rubbing his back and groaning Wilson turned and stared into the gloomy darkness inside. "Well what do you know, he's not even here." Wilson muttered darkly.

"That can't be true." House muttered as he stepped over Wilson and let his eyes adjust to the darkness, "It's way pass midnight."

"Have you ever considered that he might be out drinking or picking up girls." Wilson asked as he stared at the blinking yellow light of the sleeping computer monitor.

House shrugged and glanced up at the ceiling, "Well since the door was already open, this can't be considered breaking and entering. We might as well poke around, if we're questioned we'll say we got a mysterious 911 call that we decided to check out alone without backup and-"

Wilson held up his hands and slowly got up, "I get the point."

"Good." House said and searched the wall for the light switch, "Jesus Christ. Who doesn't keep their light switch around the door?"

"Apparently Chase. You know he could have night vision or something." Wilson mused.

"Highly unlikely. Even that orange moron from last year didn't have good night vision." House muttered as he slowly moved right.

"What orange moron?" Wilson asked curiously.

"Remember the guy who ate too many carrots and vitamins? The one with the cheating wife who wanted to sue me?"

"Oh, that guy. Yeah I remember him." Wilson said and bumped into a table.

"Anyways my point is, unless Chase carries night vision goggles around with him in his apartment, it's likely that he can't see any better then us in the dark. Sonovabitch." House swore as he tripped full length across the floor, "When I see him I'm going to wring his neck for not putting in light switches in every convenient place possible."

Wilson chuckled and cried in triumph as the lights turned on, "Wow this is pretty dim for someone who likes sunny Australia."

House grunted and managed to make his way to a couch without any incident, "What do you expect? He practically turned nocturnal with the hours he pulls on the night shift."

"I don't think so." Wilson gazed around the nearly barren room, "He's more somniphobic or at least he's suffering from insomnia. Chase doesn't sleep period."

"Ohhhhh." House said in a mocking child's voice, "Maybe he's a vampire too."

"I think you've been reading too much superstitious stuff again." Wilson arched an eyebrow as he inspected the immaculately clean kitchen, "I think he's also sitophobic."

House gazed at him with disbelief, "English please? Unlike some people I don't have the whole...phobia list memorized."

"Fear of food or eating." Wilson supplied, "It's like devoid of food in here."

"That's just not right." House muttered coming over to look.

They say when you're surprised by an extremely large and wild bear you should lay still and pretend to be dead. In that way the bear wouldn't find you as a threat or something fun to be chased after. However human instinct contradicts this piece of genius and survival instincts take over. The number one survival instinct is flight. Of course in some rational part of your mind that isn't soaked with fear, you know you'll never be able to outrun the bear. But instead of listening to that sound advice, the body takes over and you meet your death. Or just a serious mauling if you're lucky.

Although Chase couldn't be compared to a bear with his lack of muscle, height, and hair; he certainly did have the element of surprise on his side. A enraged scream alerted House and Wilson that they were being attacked by someone. That mere second was all they got before something solid knocked them both down to the ground. Their minds didn't acknowledge they were being attacked instantly; House was thinking about how his leg was going to hurt like hell tomorrow and Wilson thought he should see a chiropractor with all the falling on his back he did now a days. Those mere seconds passed and reality hit them as an inhuman snarl deafened them, the lights had gone out and all they were aware of was somebody clawing madly at them.

House quickly grabbed the offending person around the waist and switched their positions so he was practically straddling him. A bony hand frozen like a claw swiped House's right cheek and he could feel the person underneath him bucking and screaming profanities. As he felt his warm blood sliding down his cheek, House grabbed both the offending hands and slammed them to the ground as Wilson hurriedly switched on the lights. "Chase?" House asked horrified.

He could barely recognize the snarling man underneath him who screamed out in pain as the light hit his eyes, even those were unrecognizable. They were a wide and a blank stone grey, the pupils were dilated into pinpricks. Something very much like fear was the only thing that House could read in them. The young man's hair was snarled and tangled, his cheeks bloodied, probably from self induced injuries judging by the long bloody rakes on his cheeks. House hadn't noticed before but Chase was mere bones held together with only sinew, his clothes hung off of his pale shoulders and billowed as he tried to get out of House's grasp. House glanced at Wilson who was just as shocked, "Call 911." he said breathlessly, "Hurry."

* * *

Yes I know, I'm a very evil person because I haven't updated in like a million years...if you want to get technical approximately two weeks and a half or so. But it's not my fault because unlike some lucky bastards I'm still in school until the 16th then exams are coming my way. So frankly I'm stuck in between studying and getting attacked by teachers who want to cram every little bit of information possible into our minds. So sorry a million times over, but there will probably be a non-update period for a while...Damn Exams...

KatieMalfoy19: Thankz and yes meth is like the hottest drug out there, but nope it's not meth. Something less lethal...but lethal...if that makes sense at all. Here's your update.

evilchild666: One of them. (I'm so mean, but you'll find out next chapter.)

blasphamy6669: Lol, you're right about that. (Looks mischievious.) But are you sure he got a kitty. (Wink, wink, nudge, nudge.)

Dybdahl: Look a precognitionist! (Is that even a word?)

felixgirl: Whoops, sorry. Hope it works out okay and thankz.

Rubix-Complex: Of course House cares, he just cares till it hurts so he tries not to care...Anyways...nope not meth. Hope you did fine on your finals, mine's coming up pretty soon (whimpers.)

AtreidesHeir: But bad is good...because we all survive on angst. Lol.

Dying Angell: Aw thankyou and here be your update.


	17. Addiction

OMFG the website is actually being nice to me. (Rest of the rant can be found below.)

Read, Review, And Be Happy!

* * *

Shadowed Guilt: Chapter Seventeen Addiction

The paramedics burst into the spacious apartment. They were dressed in their standard issued white shirt, black pants uniform with thick blue gloves encasing each hand. The first was a burly man with tired eyes, he shouldered two medical kits that would hopefully prevent patients from dieing on their way to the hospital. The cocoa skinned stalwart woman had a foldable gurney tucked under one arm. This was their fifth run of the night, losing two patients had wrecked havoc upon their internal beliefs and nerves.

A furious snarl emitted from behind a closed door, a thin strip of light could be seen under it and violently moving shadows. A clatter of pots and swearing floated towards them, even though they were already aware of the many vicious oaths in the world, they were taken aback by the language in this one. Dropping the gurney the woman, Deena, cautiously opened the door. A shouted, "NO!" of pure desperation was seconds too late. Deena was bowled over by a being that seemed to defy gravity.

A scruffy man with three day old stubble and greying hair limped out; vicious scratches decorated his face, he seemed to be favouring his right leg and left wrist. He scowled at the stunned paramedics, "Well what the hell are you waiting for? Go after him before he freaking hurts himself."

Deena dashed out and shouted a curse as a glass cup shattered near her head, she tackled the writhing man. The burly man, Peter, gazed at the man undecided, "You're hurt."

"No." House said sarcastically, "That's why I'm bleeding all over the place. Don't worry about me, or him." House gestured behind him to an unconscious Wilson, "Just get that man. Oh before you go, knock him out the old fashioned way not sedatives." House glanced as a scream of rage echoed through the apartment, "He's hyped up on something."

Peter dashed over to help restrain Chase, but it was a losing battle. The paramedics were afraid to hurt him, but Chase had no qualms about kicking, scratching, and punching his way out of their embrace. House was torn, should he throw himself into the fray or help Wilson who was most certainly going to suffer from a concussion after Chase had managed to grab a frying pan and whack him upside the head with it as hard as he could. Deciding the concussion could wait, he limped across the room, hugging the walls and ducking painfully as more inanimate objects were thrown his way. Grabbing a hold of something with a handle he shouted for the two paramedics to get out of the way, they scurried out of the way as he brought the object down upon Chase's head, not enough to split his head open, but the whack had his dilated eyes rolling up into his head.

House sighed and helped Deena up to her feet, her uniform had been rendered into bloody rags and one bra strap was slipping off her shoulder, shrugging it back on she quickly headed for the foldable gurney. Peter, who's clothes were in the same condition as Deena's got up and went to check on Wilson who was moaning his way back into reality. House helped Deena boost Chase into the gurney and restrain him, Peter shouldered a disoriented Wilson on his back. House tucked his broken cane under his belt and picked up the medical kits then hustled the paramedics and patients into the elevator.

Inside the screaming ambulance, House helped Deena clean Chase's wounds and watched Wilson take his standard neuro test from Peter. Wilson kept on insisting he was fine, but he went pale as Peter touched the growing lump on the back of his head. House turned to his youngest fellow and combed his long fingers through the tangled blonde strands, he too felt a lump although it wasn't especially sizeable. Rolling up Chase's long sleeves, he found himself staring at the angry red needle marks decorating the skin inside the elbow. Chase's wrists and lower arms were slathered with cuts, some shallow and some deep but non fatal. "What am I going to do with you?" House muttered under his breath as the ambulance came to a screeching halt near the emergency bay of PPTH.

The on-call ER doctor scurried out in her yellow gown and faded blue scrubs. House vaguely recognized her from some fundraiser or another, but he was too busy helping the paramedics unload Chase and Wilson from the ambulance to strike up a good conversation with her. "Caucasian male, 27." House stated with clinical detail, "Suspected over intoxication of some sort of hallucinogen. Don't worry about Wilson over there just a minor concussion." House shouted at an intern who hurried up to Wilson.

He watched as the doctors wheeled Chase down the hall and into detox. House turned and nearly collapsed as the unnoticed pain from his right leg flared, grumbling he managed to make his way to Wilson. He was getting another neuro check from one of the attendings and he was getting quite irritable. Deciding his friend was in good hands, House phoned and woke up his neurologist.

An hour later, Foreman stumbled to the front doors of PPTH rubbing his tired and bloodshot eyes. House was waiting there looking impatient, Foreman squinted at the taller man, "Care to explain why you woke me up at two in the morning? And what happened to your face?" he asked taking in the clotting scars.

House thought it over, "I'm not going to tell you anything." he grabbed Foreman's dangling car keys, "Besides I like keeping people such as you in suspense. You'll find out sooner or later."

"Why do I get a feeling that I'm going to find out later the sooner?" Foreman asked as he yet again stumbled through the parking lot.

"Because your precognition sensibilities are probably kicking in." House said and got into the driver's seat of Foreman's quaint little blue sedan.

Foreman rolled his eyes, "If you're dragging me around this god forsaken city just for fun, I'm not going to hold back on strangling you to death."

House's demeanor sobered, "Trust me, this isn't what I would deem fun."

When they parked in front of the uptown apartment building that Chase lived in, House was kind of surprised that the police wasn't there sniffing around. No flashing blue, red, and yellow lights, no fluorescent crime scene tape. In fact the lack of police involvement disappointed House greatly. Foreman was gazing up at the brightly lit foyer, "Doesn't Chase live here?"

"Lived." House corrected, "I'm going to bust his ass when he gets out of rehab."

"What?" Foreman turned his head towards House, "What?"

"Are you trying to imitate a broken record?" House asked.

"Seriously. What did you just say? Chase needs rehab?" Foreman hurried after House as they climbed the stone steps.

"Yes." House said tightly, "The idiot's been on something for a while now. Stupid that he chooses tonight to get all hyped up. Okay maybe it's a plus on his side, but now I've lost my nerve to apologize. Idiot." House muttered under his breath as he marched to the elevator and ripped the 'OUT OF ORDER' sign off of the gilded doors.

Foreman let House rant knowing that he would get more information then interrupting the older doctor. The door to Chase's apartment was still slightly ajar, Foreman practically gasped at the broken glass, wood, china scattered around on the floor. House just frowned as he took all the damage in for the first time, "It's lucky he didn't have any knives handy. I swear that kid could play baseball and not break a sweat."

"So..." Foreman said lost for words, "Where should we start looking?"

House looked at him like he was insane, "Where else but the garbage?"

"Why the garbage?"Foreman asked moving towards the bathroom door.

"Needles. Biohazard bin. Trash." House enunciated slowly and headed towards the kitchen.

"Okay..." Foreman trailed off behind his back.

Foreman inspected the trash with some disgust, who knew what unpleasant things would be in that black plastic bag. He didn't care if anybody called him paranoid, but he was pulling on latex gloves just to be on the safe side. Foreman extricated one of those long thin cardboard boxes that toothpaste came in, he opened the flap and a capped needle tumbled out and onto the floor. Bending down he snatched it up and studied it. He could see no difference from the ones they used at the hospital. Putting it aside, he shifted things around in the trash. He came up with shredded paper, a washcloth stained with drops of blood, a torn rubber tourniquet, and two more needles. House limped in and took in the items Foreman had assembled on the counter, "First time's for fun. Second time's because you want that little jolt. Third time you got a problem."

"Well," Foreman said, "Chase has got more then a problem here. He's got an addiction."

* * *

Well I've been trying to update for days now, but just wouldn't upload my chapters. I got pretty pissed at it. Hopefully you'd all checked my profile (fat chance) but the chapter had been posted some days earlier on livejournal. Anywhoo, school has finally finished, I'm afraid of seeing my exam marks next year. Lol. Hopefully I'll be able to get tramped over by evil bunnies, however the bad thing is I'm going to be working a lot of the summer. I'm trying to save money for a trip to the other side of the world...yeah not gonna happen for a while. Anyways...done ranting for now.

Dying Angell: Lol, yes I am evil. Now that I think about it, I probably failed my English PAT.

blasphamy6669: Lol, thank you. Suspense keeps building.

evilchild666: Well crazy is my middle name. (wink)

felixgirl: More, more, more. Lol, here ya go.

Dattatreya: Thank you and here be the chapter.

BridgetLynn: Thankyou (blush) and don't worry I'll keep writing.

Green Penguin: We all want to cuddle Chase at some point in our lives (wink). I'm finally updating, YEAH!

SuperSquash: As I said, I'm very evil. Okay not as evil as my friend's cat, but nearly.

Death's Executioner: Aw thank you.


	18. Tell

Sooooo tired...(reaches out to bed)

Review please. OMG nearly one hundred reviews (jumps around and dances)

* * *

Shadowed Guilt: Chapter Eighteen Tell

The first thing he noticed when he became aware of the real world again, was the pain. His stomach was writhing, twisting, pulling at his intestines inside of him. His lungs burned. The heart pounded a fast rhythm. Muscles contracted until it felt like they were going to break like flimsy thread. Under the pain, was the faint tremor, the sweat. Gasping, he tried to curl himself into a ball only to find that his splayed form was permanent. Ragged gasps. Panic. He struggled against the restraints, reducing his skin to bloody and raw rags to no avail. His blood shot eyes darted around the room and landed on a face he never expected to see again. He gave a weak smile to the scowling man with the receding hairline, "Come to gloat? Tell me I'm nothing. Wish you never impregnated mom with my filthy substance?" the man kept staring, "Wish you never spent your precious money on my education? Destroying my already shattered dreams?" he was talking too fast and he hyperventilating, not a good sign but he didn't care, "Gonna slap me and tell me to shut my mouth?" his weak voice rose in volume, "Don't want me to tell them your dirty little secrets?"

The man, apparition, ghost rose and looked down at him from his aquiline nose. He didn't say anything. He didn't move. The young man on the bed looked up into his eyes, those disappointed eyes. Somehow that hurt him more then any slap or broken bone he had ever received in his life. Chase couldn't stand it. He looked away, his sweat soaked hair falling into his eyes. "Go away. I know you don't care."

A glance back showed the image of his father had indeed dissipated into the air. A ghost? Or an hallucination? Did it matter, he was already psychologically scarred. What did it matter that now 'crazy' would be listed in his file. The years of being impoverished to follow. Chase didn't think anyone would give a skinny rat's ass to what would happen to him after this. He knew he was stuck in the hospital; that much he could tell from the restraints, beeping monitors, the glass walls that his limited vision and hearing gave him. He a thought that he had even treated a patient in this same Detox room, oh the irony. Everything was coming back to bite him in the ass, but he deserved it. For everyone he had ever let die, this was going to be part of his penance. He would suffer the brunt of it in Hell. That's right, he was going straight down to the ninth circle of hell. Hadn't he been told that time and time again by the priests in seminary, but it didn't matter. Nothing did to him nowadays, but to get to tomorrow.

Why the will to live? Chase had always wondered about that. Why had he not ended his life as soon as he could? There had been that one try right after his mother had died. He had chosen; Death By Overdose. He hadn't succeeded considering that his father had barged in looking to drag him right out of seminary and straight into med school. Chase never understood why his father had chosen that exact moment to come, or that he even came himself. Was it the workings of God? No, it couldn't possibly be. Despite what he thought in his earlier years, God did not consider him as somebody worthy of his attention. Granted that there were billions of people out there in the world, but God supposedly gave love to everybody, even the sinners. It was all a lie, everything about himself was a lie.

The lies had become routine after a while, always smiling and telling his teachers that the ugly purple bruises on his arms, back, and legs were all from playing a rough game of rugby. The countless teachers knew it wasn't true, but didn't pursue the subject matter any farther. Chase giggled madly through the haze of pain. Teachers were always encouraging students to talk to them, tell them of their troubles. Well how good were they at solving problems when they avoided them in the first place.

A particularly sharp steel pang of pain was jammed right into his stomach, he bit his lip until it bled trying not to scream. A muffled whimper made it's way out as he twisted trying again to curl into a ball. He wondered why, it was probably human instinct. Make yourself smaller to avoid the enemy. Such animalistic instincts they resorted to when all else fails, even the instincts bred in them from the beginning of time failed.

He retreated into his mind where he could block out most of the fiery pain, but he couldn't escape the terrors he had endured during his short life. 'Let me die.' he thought, 'Why don't they just let me die.'

oOoOo

"What do you mean I won't have my results until tomorrow?" House yelled, it was three in the morning and he was running on bad coffee, "You mean I have to wait another twenty four hours?"

The lab technician looked at him with unperturbed sleepy eyes, "Not my fault we're backed up to Pluto." he snapped his purple gum that he was chewing nosily, "Frost is making itself known to New Jersey, every doctor are always putting priority rushes on their results. Look, if you wanna complain. Complain to the dragon lady, not me. We're understaffed with limited equipment and she's the one to make a difference."

House steamed, "How about this, get my results within the hour and I won't shove my cane up your ass."

"I doubt you'd waste the dignity of your cane on me." the tech turned back to his computer, "Like I said talk to Cuddy."

House turned and growled as he hobbled out, he'd come back later to threaten and badger a less experienced tech. But in the meantime, why not badger a more available source. He stalked all the way into Chase's Detox room, the younger man's head was rolling from to side to side, slurred words rushing past his slack lips. He slammed his cane down on the rail where his wombat was tied to, it made an effectively loud noise. Chase flinched, his bloodshot eyes wide. The heart monitor skipped and jumped. House watched, his face not giving anything away. Chase's eyes wandered listlessly through the room before landing on House's, "What are you doing here? Haven't you tormented me enough?" his voice was hoarse, his eyes wandering again.

"What are you on?" House demanded.

"What does it matter?" Chase's eyes darted back towards him. He glanced at his tremoring hand tied to the railings of his bed, "Precaution. What for?" he muttered to himself, before looking back at House, "Why did you bring her?"

"Who?" House glanced around the room just to make sure he was indeed alone with Chase, "There's no one here."

Chase's laugh rasped hollowly inside his lungs, "Your trophy wife which you go and fuck every night."

House was confused, but it suddenly hit him, "Are you hallucinating Chase?"

"The great Dr Rowan Chase won't even refer to his son as something as personal as his first name?" Chase sneered and twitched. He rubbed his soaked temples against the pillow.

"You think I'm your father?" House sat. This could become interesting.

Chase looked at the spot just right of House, "Has anyone even had the guts to tell you you're a pedophile?"

"Well." House said conversationally, "Occasionally."

His teeth chattered, but he wasn't aware of it. Chase looked abashed, "I'm s-so s-s-sorry s-sir. I-I-I d-didn't mean t-to...I-I-I...s-sorry?" It came out like a question.

The older man rubbed his stubbled jaw, uneasily. He waved a hand over Chase's unfocused eyes, "Chase?"

His eyes widened, the pupils dilated until only a slim sliver of the pupil could be seen. House was frozen in shock as Chase arched up. His muscles stiffened until he seemed like a pale marble sculpture frozen in pain's grasp for eternity. House moved in cautiously, "Chase?" he called one more time.

A blood curdling scream escaped from Chase's lips before he collapsed, limp, onto the bed. House was shaken to the bone, but his doctor instincts took over. He checked Chase over and found nothing that hadn't been there before. Pressing a button he called for the nurse to come and extract another blood sample from his employee, he also reserved a MRI just in case.

oOoOo

House stood in front of his white board, the eraser in one hand, the black felt marker in his right. He was tapping them together. One of his hands sorely wanted to rid the board of Mr Reichs symptoms, the other hand just wanted to solve his problem before everything could be striped off. Frowning, he erased the symptoms and started writing. When he was done, he leaned back to observe his handy work. In the upper left hand corner Mr Reichs' symptoms were written minutely, then he drew a thick black line before putting down Chase's symptoms. It was a no brainer; drugs, drugs, and more drugs. But what he was interested in was how it all started. Doctors went through drug screenings as part of their yearly evaluation, of course some doctors found ways around it. But symptoms from street drugs were more noticeable then prescription drugs. House didn't know the exact reason why, but he suspected it had something to do with the developer.

Most prescription meds came from big companies which monitored, controlled, and regulated the amount of chemicals in each pill, inhalant, or injection. With street drugs, people were flirting with death everyday. Some were impure, mixed with trivial things like cornstarch. This gave the user very little satisfaction, so they bought more and more until finally all that intake of drugs caused death. Then there were some drugs that were kept pure, purer then most which you could overdose in a blink of an eye. Other drugs, usually lesser drugs, were sold off as the classy high end drugs such as Ecstasy. Sometime the cooks didn't even care what they were pouring into the drugs, they all just wanted something that could pass as Ecstasy or something else. All in all most times street drugs led to death, either slowly or quickly. What House wanted to know was why Chase was bargaining his life for such a petty and brief hit of euphoria.

Shaking his head, he glanced at his nearly silent clock. Seeing that it was morning and that shift change should've occurred by now, he headed for the labs. House peeked through the glass wall before walking in. He put on his vicious scowling face and prepared to do battle.

oOoOo

Cameron was walking quickly through the halls, she was still oblivious to the fact that Chase had been admitted during the night. Of course the nursing staff and every other group of doctors were gossiping rapidly about it, Cameron however thought it immoral and tuned them out like you would do with white noise. However when she was walking past the labs, she could not help but overhear the fight that was brewing within the glass walled room. Cameron found herself struck dumb by the scene playing in front of her eyes. As House walked out the door, a triumphant smile on his face and a piece of paper in his right hand. Cameron congratulated him, "House..." she stopped looking for the words that had escaped her mind, "I never knew you could do something like that with a cane."

House smiled, a blissful look on his face, "You probably can't without breaking all those pesky scientific laws. But it is worth a try."

They walked in an almost companionable silence up to the diagnostics conference room, "What's going on?" Cameron finally asked, "Has Mr Reichs' system finally shut down?"

House's happy bubble popped, "Unfortunately no."

"Then what?" Cameron persisted, "Come on House...oh..." she said as she spotted the white board.

"Now you know." House sighed and lowered himself in a chair like an eighty year old grandfather.

"Oh." Cameron said again before putting a hand on the glass table for support, "But...he's a doctor." she spluttered.

He glanced up at her, "You're telling me."

* * *

Well...started work yesterday...all in all...have worked about eleven hours...gonna get paid 77 bucks...Yipee! But god damn, my feet hurt. (needs a foot massage)

Merlin71: Lol, Chase has been a very naughty boy. Yes indeed.

Dying Angel1: Lol, who cares about cryptic english exams anyways? Well we'll have to see about the rehab won't we?

AtreidesHeir: Well let's just say Chase might be very paranoid after this experience.

felixgirl: Well don't we all? And what's the point of angst if there is no hugs in the end?

Firetop: Aw don't worry about it, it just means I'm not updating soon enough. Of course my butt won't get into gear because it's just too damn tired. Apparently his mum didn't have 'that' great of influence on him, or... (I'll leave you to your thoughts.)

blasphamy6669: Yes, I love giving people a hard time. I'm glad you love this story...although when I reread it I thought...wow...my continuity is just as bad as the producers. Lol. Thankz for the insight on how to upload chapters when problems occurr, next time...MWHAHAHA


	19. Leaving

I'm SORRY! (Rest of the apology at the bottom.)

Please review and enjoy...hopefully...

* * *

Shadowed Guilt: Chapter Nineteen Leaving

Chase clutched at the now warm metal railing for support as he gave up another couple layers of mucus lining his troubled stomach to the grey pail sitting stoutly just right of his hospital bed. He winced as a spike of pain shot through his stomach and he found himself gagging; he wanted to vomit but nothing was coming out. So Chase just laid there with his sweaty forehead pressed against the metal, his eyes glazed, and tried not to stare at the blinking lights being emitted from the heart monitor. He was having enough trouble concentrating with the constant beeping of it without seeing the dizzying green lights flashing around the room. He sighed miserably and curled up his legs. Chase would be forever grateful to the nurse who had finally untied him, of course he couldn't blame them for not wanting a dead patient in their midst.

He must've drifted off for a moment because he was rudely awakened as the glass door was roughly shoved open. Chase groaned as a whole new set of spikes were pushed into his brain. However he kept his lids over his dry eyes closed and tried to ignore whoever was coming in. The hurried clacks and clicks of a pair of heels and a flurry of loafers alerted Chase he was in for a long talk, a talk that should be christened with a capital T. Judging from the footsteps he already knew who was occupying the room with him, but he prayed that they would have the decency to at least keep it short and to the point.

The feet rounded the corner of his bed and stood somewhere in front of him. Chase summoned the energy to try and lift his head. He only succeeded in opening his eyes and raising his eyebrows at the person who was in his personal space. He shifted until he could see the person in a three piece woman's business suit without feeling like his eyes were going to fall out of his head along with his stomach. "C-Cammmmeron?" Chase slurred tiredly. He couldn't even form proper words through the pain that intensified every minute into his withdrawal.

"How can you be so selfish?" Cameron immediately hissed.

He nearly gave into the urge to roll his eyes, but the fact that it might enrage his already pounding headache stopped him. Chase gave an audible sigh and kept quiet. His stomach clenched and rolled; he hoped he could hold out until Cameron finished her rant and left before he puked his guts out once again. He shifted until he could see the person standing directly behind Cameron, another sigh escaped his lips, "Fffforeman? You-" he gave way to a wet cough and jolted forward to vomit in the gray bucket that he now considered a loyal friend.

The puking finally did one good thing for the day; in addition to the rolling stomach, the burning throat, and the fact that he felt like a giant bruise all over, Cameron stopped her probably prepared speech with a guilty look. "Chase?" she cooed.

He nearly choked on his nearly expelled ropy string of sputum, maybe mother hen Cameron was worse then scolding Cameron after all. A cool wet cloth was laid gently across his heated brow, he was surprised it didn't fall off as he lurched forward and nearly fell out of the bed in his haste to get rid of the still dangling spit. Firm hands were placed on his back and it pinned him gently to the bed as he nearly fell over the railing once again. He would've nodded his gratitude but the startling matter of blood mixed with his saliva spewed out of his mouth. He could physically feel himself getting paler, he shut his eyes and breathed hard letting the air rush into his cramped lungs.

"Oh Chase." Cameron sighed as she and Foreman helped him into a more comfortable position, "What have you done to yourself?"

Still breathing hard, Chase closed his eyes, "You have no idea what you're talking about." he snapped suddenly. Appalled he gazed wide eyed at Cameron and Foreman who had looks of surprise on their faces, "I'm so sorry." Chase panted trying to push the words out, "I didn't mean anything by it. I'm so sorry."

"Shhhh." Cameron said hugging Chase gingerly, "It's alright. We know you didn't mean it. Right Foreman?" she asked testily.

"Right." Foreman said quietly gazing down at the pitiful shell of a man that had once had a bright future ahead of him.

"I'm so tired." Chase sighed, his persona changing with a snap.

"Oh." Cameron exclaimed letting go of Chase quickly, "We'll leave so you can get some rest."

"I'm just so tired." Chase repeated staring at the glass walls.

"We're leaving now." Foreman glanced at Cameron, "If you need anything just press the button."

Chase turned his eyes and stared at them through luminous blue eyes that reflected the green light from the monitor strangely, "I know." he said as if he was far away, "The red button." he nodded sagely.

As Cameron and Foreman left, Chase wrapped himself up in his new found peace and flung his legs over the side of the bed to stand. He was oblivious to the pain of his screaming muscles, the raw skin around his wrists and ankles, the pounding headache. He had only one goal in mind.

oOoOo

"When are you going to transfer him?" House asked from the doorway of Cuddy's office.

Cuddy looked up, "Why do you assume I'll transfer him?"

"Well." House said, "Let's see: we don't have the facilities, medicine, padded walls that he needs."

"We have padded walls." Cuddy raised an eyebrow.

"But the people in Psyche are so selfish, you really think they'd lend you a room?" House asked sitting down without being invited.

"House." Cuddy said, "Why do you want to know whether or not I've decided to transfer him or not?"

"I want to know when you have to give up your little boy-toy."

She had probably set herself up for that little remark but that didn't stop her from reprimanding House, "House really. I thought you were my boy-toy. I know how you don't like sharing, even when you were forced into Kindergarten."

"You kidding me? I loved Kindergarten; especially nap time." House paused, "I'm not sure about snack time though. I'm pretty sure the teachers put food poisoning in those little plastic cups of juice."

Cuddy shook her head and gave an inaudible sigh, no one could seem to beat House in a snarking contest, "I haven't decided when, I'm still looking for a good facility. I found one in New York City with a promise of 85 full recovery-"

"Do I hear a but coming up?" House asked.

She shrugged, "Do you think Chase is going to...not freak out when he finds himself in a city about a million miles from the only one he has ever known since he got to the US?"

"Oh come on." House said, "New Jersey isn't that far from New York."

Cuddy raised an eyebrow, "Have you looked at a map lately?"

"You kidding me? New Jersey and New York are practically booty buddies. Besides wombats are adaptable, he'll be fine." House said with such confidence that he himself almost believed it.

"You and I both know that I don't believe that and you sure as hell don't believe that."

"Aw shucks." House said doing his best Disney impression, "Fouled."

She gave him a disapproving glare, "House why don't you stop making a fool out of yourself and actually-"

Cameron burst into the room; her lab coat was slipping off one of her shoulders, her breathing came short, her hair was slightly frizzy and disheveled, and a look of abject terror on her face. "He's gone." she declared and started pacing.

The two older doctors blinked and looked at Cameron's limping walk, they both noticed the broken heel of one of Cameron's high heeled shoes. They were mesmerized by the little black point trailing after the shoe by a mere thread. Cameron threw her hands in the air and turned, "Aren't you going to do anything?"

House and Cuddy exchanged glances, "Are we suppose to know what you're talking about?" House asked, unconsciously massaging his throbbing right thigh.

"Chase." she cried wildly, "He just...went...poof...and...and..." she stuttered.

"Cameron." Cuddy said gently and rose from her chair, "Sit."

"I can't. Don't you see, it's my fault." Cameron's eyes teared up.

"Oh God." House fanned himself, "All these emotional female hormones are affecting me. I'm doomed."

Cuddy shot House a stinging glare and gently pushed Cameron into one of the office chairs, "Now take deep breaths and tell us what's going on. Start from the beginning."

"When I found out about his drug abuse this morning," Cameron's voice was shaky and a little rough from the held back tears, "I immediately marched into Chase's room. Maybe I should've waited, you know, I mean he looked so terrible. I started yelling at him, he became sick, and finally he kicked us out. Then when I came back to check up on him an hour later, he-he was gone."

House raised both his eyebrows until they were in danger of disappearing in his already receding hairline and tried to be a picture of nonchalance. Inside his heart had skipped a beat and picked up a faster pace. Where had the wombat gone? "Have you checked the security cameras?"

"The security cameras?" Cameron asked confused.

"You haven't checked them have you?" House wanted to smack her lightly over the head, "They watch all the entrances and exits of the hospital. Cameron, I pay you to think you know."

Cuddy slapped House on the back of his head, "Cameron go check the cameras."

Cameron scurried away horrified that she hadn't thought of checking the security cams first before running to House and Cuddy. "That hurt." House whined.

"Maybe you should just keep that big mouth of yours shut on such occasions?" Cuddy snapped.

"On which occasions?" House asked trying not to sound sarcastic, "The first thing you do when a patient is misplaced is look at the security cams, not run around hoping to bump into the guy."

"How many patients have exactly escaped under Cameron's watch?" Cuddy asked, "Besides when somebody decides to escape, you alert security first."

"I doubt she did that either." House twiddled his thumbs and got up, "Well I'm going to check up on Cameron and make sure she doesn't screw this little assignment up. If you'll excuse me." he said with an elegant accent and did his best to stride towards the door.

"Don't hold this over her." Cuddy said with a hand on her waist.

House paused in the doorway, "You never know when good black mailing material comes up again."

Cuddy just stared at House. He threw up his hands and cane in defeat, "Okay, I won't hold this over her."

"Thank you." Cuddy said primly and seated herself.

House turned and mocked a high pitched thank you just out of Cuddy's hearing range.

oOoOo

He remembered this room from several take-overs of the little televisions to watch General Hospital. The security cameras relayed its feed back to this tiny AV room in glowing black and white images while a bored and tired security guard watched lazily. Cameron was already fast forwarding through the last hour's video footage, House leaned over and pressed pause, "Where's Foreman?"

Cameron glanced at him distractedly, "He's searching through the more obscure wings of the hospital."

House raised an eyebrow, "What for? Chase isn't an inanimate object you know, or dumb enough to stay in one spot if he really wanted to get out of the hospital."

"I know." Cameron said her cheeks taking on a pink tinge, "It is worth a shot."

"Mmmm." House mumbled, "How many times have you run through the footage?"

She shrugged, "Five times so far. I haven't spotted him. So it's a safe bet that he's still in the hospital."

"Yeah." House nodded absently.

Cameron glanced at him curiously, "House?"

House didn't say a word as he turned and left.

* * *

I'm so sorry for not updating for like a million years, I don't think I really have a good excuse and I'm not going to try and come up with one. The only thing that's been happening is a blockage from one path to another and I just get kinda get bored with myself for not coming up with anything interesting to write or read so I procrastinated..I know it's a very bad habit...I have a lot of bad habits... On top of that my job is very mind numbing, you'd think with all those hours I have I'd be coming up with fantastic story ideas (sometimes I do, but not for this story) but my creative mind instantly shuts itself off and I become like some weird zombie. So sorry again.

I seriously want to strangle this website...damn thing will never upload anything for me...but thankz to blasphamy669 you and I were saved from a great deal of headaches. Finally OMG 100 plus reviews (huggles everyone)

I must say I'm sorry for the incoherency of this chapter and very very very bad spelling, grammer, etc. I had just came off from an alternating day and night shift and I was dead tired when I finally realized how long its been since I had updated (embarrassed) So sorry sorry sorry and hopefully I'll get the next one out as soon as my brain gets back into gear.

Er...sorry for carrying on for so long...but last chapter I had Chase telling his dad AKA Rowan Chase that he was a pedophile. I didn't mean that Rowan was you know abusing Chase or anything. It was Chase making a reference to the trophy wife (boy this sounds twisted already) Due to that fact that my story Rowan married again whilst he was around forty and the fact that Chase's step mum was around early twenties...so if you rewind a little, it could be considered Rowan nearly married an underaged girl...if that makes any sense at all...(looks worried)

elfmaiden4legs: Aw thankyou, I'm always afraid that my characters are way too OOC to be believeable.

Firetop: Mmmm, possibly, maybe, definitely are always in my vocab.

A-E-W: Thankz sweetie, but this time it did nothing for me. I think I need a new brain.

AtreidesHeir: I like stating the obvious and uh-uh you're lost...already...NOOOOO!

felixgirl: Lol, I just stared at this review for several minutes.

blasphamy6669: Eek...crap...er...check above message (furiously adds a little note for the last chapter.)

Dying Angel1: OMG I got my results back...I actually only got 3 wrong on it...remarkable... And I agree, exams aren't important, they're just government testing devices. If you get a high enough score they take you away and lock you up in some institute no doubt (shifty eyes)

bree1387: Lol, I like bashing people around, I think it's a genetic disorder or something. I'm glad you like my House, sometimes I havea hard time being House due to the fact that I'm not exactly witty or sarcastic outside of computer related activities.

Lurkinshdws: I'm trying to write more, glad you like it so far.

nixxy311: Thank you and I always love drawing people in.


	20. Rambling

Well...look it that... I'm updating...yeah...

Please read, enjoy, and review. Gawd I feel tired...

* * *

Shadowed Guilt: Chapter Twenty Rambling

Stairs. Stairs were the bane of House's existence to date. Why must God thwart him so? He growled at the offending staircase. It comprised of fifteen steps and was a dull grey colour. House's right thigh was starting to ache before even the first thoughts of climbing it entered his mind, it was as if his thigh had some kind of psychic knowledge into the future. House had only been up to the rooftop twice; once to fetch Wilson from an eternity of moping and once to escape Stacy. It was interesting that nobody thought a cripple like him could reach the rooftop even as determined as he. But it was definitely hard for said cripple to climb up all those steps when he had accomplished a feat six times over just a half a day before. He should really convince Cuddy to reconfigure the building's architecture and extend the elevator shaft to the roof, it would definitely be one of his more frequented hiding places if the makeover happened.

House hoped his notion was dead on correct, if not he would be tempted to throw himself over the edge of the rooftop in which he had put considerable amounts of time and pain trying to reach. Sighing loudly, he caressed the now familiar vicodin bottle. Popping two into his mouth, he swallowed them like it was truly his last sustenance here on Earth. Tucking his new curved handle cane in his belt, he gripped the smooth railing with both hands and promptly did something that looked like a jitter bug.

On his first sweeping surveillance of the rooftop, House was disappointed to find it empty. He extricated his cane from his belt and limped forward in the biting wind that Old Man Winter had sent to terrorize the Mercer County just hours before. Tugging the lapels of his suit jacket closed, he concentrated on the rooftop by squinting his eyes against the mini hurricane. House's hunch had paid off after all. Standing off to one side, staring at the grey clouds above, clad only in a thin hospital issued gown was Chase. His hunched back was facing House. Approaching cautiously House quickly tapped Chase on the shoulder with his cane before leaping back a couple of feet.

He had expected Chase to jump three feet in the air, turn and attack him. However he was sorely disappointed as Chase calmly turned around, "You found me." he said quietly with the absence of slurring and the annoying chattering of teeth that had plagued his voice an hour ago.

"Of course I found you." House said still keeping his cane between him and Chase, "Do you really think that Cameron or Foreman would've thought of the roof? Nobody ever thinks about the roof."

"You did." Chase pointed out.

"Of course I did you dimwit; I'm me." House raised his eyebrows.

Chase closed his tired eyes and sat down on the cold ledge. House followed suit and after a brief debate with himself he nobly gave up his jacket to wrap around Chase's thin shoulders. House was slightly miffed when Chase didn't acknowledge the fact that another article of clothing had been added to his person. House wrapped his numbing arms around himself, "How long have you been up here?"

The response was a shrug and a half hearted sniffle. House went on, "You've probably caught a cold or worse. If you're up here any longer you're privates, fingers, and toes to boot are going to turn black and fall off."

Another non-talkative shrug, "Chase for Christ's sake, let's head inside." House said wishing he had the foresight to bring another jacket along.

"I don't want to." came the quiet reply, "I like it up here."

"So you're willing to risk your privates to a peaceful moment up here?" House asked.

"It's not that cold up here."

House stared at him, "This is coming from a guy who thinks that a rainy day inside in New Jersey is freaking ass cold. I would also like to point out that you're booty is shaking like a..."

Chase stared balefully at him, "If you're going to say anything about a stripper I'm going to hurl...for real."

Taking note of Chase's greenish tinge, House sighed dramatically, "Oh alright. You're shaking like a leaf." he said in a bored voice, "You take all the fun out of metaphors."

"That was a simile." Chase pointed out.

House rolled his eyes, "Whatever. Look if you're not coming inside willingly, I'll have to take you with force."

"That's an empty threat and we both know it. You couldn't drag me anywhere if you tried."

"I didn't actually say I would be dragging you, I said I would get you inside with force. My number one option is to add to that lump on the back of your pretty little head." House paused, "And the dragging part can be left to the rest of my many minions."

Chase subconsciously rubbed the painful lump, but remained silent. House's fingers twitched, which was an amazing feat considering that they felt frozen and stiff, "You're not going to go in." he stated, "As you're doctor-"

"You're not my doctor." Chase murmured.

Glaring at him, House continued, "As I was saying." he cleared his throat, "As your doctor I advise you to get the hell inside before you catch pneumonia. You're not that far from suffering its extremities, you're lips are already a nice shade of blue."

Sighing Chase got up slowly, "If it'll make you happy." he drifted in the direction of the door.

House growled slightly as his jacket slipped off of Chase and pooled on the frozen ground, he muttered slightly about ungrateful wombats. House bent slowly to retrieve it from the ground. Slowly standing he glanced at Chase who had both his hands on the door handle, "Are you going to open it or are you just going to stand there?" House called out callously.

"I'm guessing both." Chase said in the dreamy state he was in.

Exhaling his breath in a puff of annoyed smoke, House stomped over with as much dignity as a wet cat, "Move aside." he gently, but firmly pushed Chase away.

At first he thought that the temperature had dropped significantly since he had stepped out in the cold air, but a dawning horror formed in his mind. He braced his left leg on the wall a few feet above the roof and pulled. His muscles strained and popped. The ruined thigh gave an enormous and painful twinge. However the door didn't budge. Breathing heavily from the exertion, House dug into his pockets. At the familiar rattling of the pill bottle, House looked up from his desperate search and grabbed it from Chase's limp fingers. Popping one, House grabbed his coat back and dug around, "Of all the freaking times I don't have my cell phone and pager." House hissed as he shook out his coat.

Chase sniffled and sat back down on the ledge, his eyes still depicting the fact that he was far far away from the real world. House stood in front of Chase, "If it weren't for your sorry ass I would be somewhere warm and toasty right now."

"Then you shouldn't have come up here in the first place." Chase said.

"You're right, I shouldn't have. Damn angel sitting on my shoulder, I really need to get rid of it." House replied, "When the dimwits finally figure out where we both are we'll be frozen ice sculptures." House glanced at Chase, "I'll bet all the nurses will coo when they find out you died partially naked."

"I'm not naked." Chase pointed out.

"A thin gown covering your body does not count."

"I'm wearing underwear." he said quietly and sat indian style.

"I should hope so." House scowled, "Either wise I would be seriously weirded out."

Chase made a small sound and silence once again blanketed between them. House had rewrapped himself with his jacket and stared up at the sky. The wind had picked up and his face felt like it was freezing on his skull. Much to his dismay he saw small snowflakes drifting lazily from the iron grey clouds, "Great. Just great. It's snowing."

"I thought you weren't one to state the obvious."

"You know what? If you don't shut that trap of yours, I will shut it for you. Now shush I'm trying to think." House glared.

Chase replied by wiping his running noise and crossing his arms. House glowered at him, "How the hell am I suppose to think if you look so miserable?"

"You thrive on people's misery remember." Chase shivered.

"Here I thought you weren't cold." House twitched his fingers, "Get over here."

"I don't think this is the time for you to admire my ass." he said as he scooted over nonetheless.

"You wish." House muttered and turned so he could wrap his jacket around both his and Chase's bodies.

House steeled himself from trying to flinch away, it was like trying to cuddle with an iceberg. He found himself rubbing circles on Chase's hunched back trying to get the circulation to flow and produce body heat once again. "If you mention this to anyone I'm going to make the rest of your life a living hell." House said.

Chase peeked over the stretched jacket, "I would say same goes, but considering the fact that the rest of my life is already going to be a living hell..." he trailed off and sneezed.

"I'm also going to send you the dry cleaner's bill." House looked at his jacket critically, "Wombat snot. Ew, how gross is that?"

"I don't sneeze snot every where like a kid."

"Of course you do, because you've never grown up. Seriously you could pass as an uber hot teenaged monkey." House wiggled his nose as a sneeze tried to tingle out.

"Zoophiliac." Chase murmured.

"Aha." House cried in triumph, "So you admit you're an escaped rogue wombat."

"I thought I was a teenaged monkey?" Chase's forehead met House's shoulder.

"Why'd you do it?"

"Do what?" Chase asked confused at the sudden change in topics.

"Or a better question would be, when did you start?"

"Start?" Chase repeated.

"Maybe we should change your name to Echo, you're certainly pretty enough." House paused a serious look on his face, "When did this heroin addiction begin?"

House felt Chase shrug, "I don't remember."

"Before or after Vogler?" House demanded.

Chase was silent.

"Well?"

A slew of words went in one of House's ear and out the other, he grabbed both of Chase's shoulders through the jacket and shook, "Stop talking so fast." as Chase stopped abruptly as he was directed, "Now speak normally, pronounce every word clearly."

Chase was silent for so long that House had thought he had finally froze to death, "After..." he trailed off.

"During or after?" House angled his voice.

"After." Chase stated more firmly.

"So...that would be during?" House corrected for him.

"Why don't you ever believe a word I say?" Chase sighed.

"Let's see." he pause for a second, "You lie every other word?"

"I don't lie." Chase argued then paused, "...exactly..."

"You just did." House pointed out.

Chase glared at him from inside the jacket, "Do you have some sort of lying and or bullshit radar on you or something?"

"It's taken many years to develop. Unfortunately it's not buyable in stores right now." House said rather gently, "So now that you're not denying it... It was during Vogler's stay?" he raised his eyebrows.

Chase turned his face away from House's shoulder, "Maybe."

"I think you're giving me a run for my money as champion of non sequiter answers." House grumbled, "So did it start out recreational?"

"Depends on your view." Chase mumbled over stiff lips.

"So clearly you don't think it was recreational..." House's thoughts drifted, "Did your mom shoot up on smack while she had you?"

Chase peeked out and stared at House balefully, "My mother was an alcoholic."

"Therefore not a druggie. Then shouldn't you be an alcoholic too?" House prodded.

"It was after I was born that she started drinking." Chase's head disappeared again.

"Because she had you?" House asked, "Some kind of post birth depression? Unfortunately I forget the specific term. Well ain't that a wee bit mean, drink because she had you. You'd think you would have been the light of her life."

Chase's body tensed on every word, "Why are we talking about my mother?"

"Well as a good doctor, I'm mentally taking down your family history in order to cut off this little problem of yours at the root."

"What makes you think it can be cut off?" Chase whispered peering out again, "What makes you think that I won't just disappear while you forget about me as soon as you place me in one of those rehabilitation centers?"

"I'm pleased that you think that I'm such a cold hearted bastard." House said sarcastically, "But unlike some people I remember all those who have worked for me and I always follow up."

House could sense rather then see the raised eyebrows, "You mean you literally stalk them and add them to your web of blackmail."

"If you want to get technical then yes." House sneezed, "Holy hell my nose is turning into a snot river."

"Such pleasant imagery we come up with." Chase observed, "Do you think anybody's coming?"

House stuck a reluctant arm out of the warming interior of the jacket, "We've been out here for a good hour. You've been out here for about two. Do you really think somebody's coming." he shifted slightly on the ledge, "God, my butt is frozen in place."

"No it's not. You're just stiff."

"Excuse me?" House arched his brows, "You've done it again."

"Done what? I feel like I'm doing stuff that I don't even know I did."

"You've once again successfully distracted me from the point." House declared.

A small pause crept into their wandering conversation, "Maybe you're just a little more ADD then some."

"Anyways..." House dragged out the word, "You'll not disappear whilst locked up in a little dungeon at the castle of rehab because if you do. I'll track you down to the ends of the earth and plop you right back in that little room and watch you like a cat at a mouse hole."

"Interesting analogy."

"Why thank you." House would've bowed if he could, "So...how did it start?"

"Since you're so smart at figuring stuff out, why don't you go figure it out?" Chase shot back.

"Because I'm tired of playing this game already." House said seriously, "Believe it or not, sometimes I do not find pleasure in trying to piece people's psyche back together."

"Well, since you've taken obvious pleasure in doing so before. I think you can puzzle this one out on your own." Chase muttered and moved away from House's warm jacket.

"You're going to freeze." House hoarsely shouted.

"I beg to differ." Chase mumbled and wrapped his scarred arms around himself.

"And you're going to make me guilty...aren't you?"

"Perhaps." Chase sneezed again, louder then his previous mousy sneezes.

One more sigh was added to the many House had exhaled today, but before he could offer the warmth of his jacket again somebody saw fit to open the rooftop door that had prevented them from returning to the building's warmth. "Finally." House shouted and got up as fast as his legs could manage.

Chase looked up once before losing what color he had on his cheeks, "Oh no." he whispered.

House glanced at Chase and turned back to deal a sarcastic blow at whoever who had opened the door, but the words were lost before they were even issued out of his mouth. Instead they were replaced by, "Ah...shit..."

* * *

Man I was hoping to wrap this story up in a nice neat shiny bow within the next few chapters...but look, look at what the horrid plot bunny of doom has done to me. It has made me veer off the course of the story into another totally different region. (I feel like I wanna cry)

On a lighter note I finally drove for the first time...okay don't look at me like that, I have my learners but I just haven't found much time to learn how to drive. I must say, I'm very proud of myself for not crashing, scratching, denting, or rear ending another vehicle or my dad's for that matter. Although Imust sayI did have a near death experience when I swerved in the wayof an oncoming semi, thank god my dad'sknows how to steer from the passenger's side seat.And no I didn't run over any animals, but I did see a skunk,stray cat,and a hare hoping to become roadkill.

Work has been fairlycrazy. One ofmy coworkers decided to be an idiot; he got drunk and got himself beat up. Now he's on sick leave and once again we're short on staff and me being the idiot that I am, am fillingsome of his shifts...I dread because I have never ever done room service before. Okay I can answer thephone, easy as pie, but the delivering...noway in hell man...no way in hell...

Okay...I'll stop rambling...but I'm learning how toplay backgammon on the internet against people I don't even know...it's interesting...considering I'm getting crushed...but now I'm playing against somebody at my level which is okay...I guess...now I'll shut up for good... (I still don'tget the game.)

sleepyheathen: Don't worry, I will finish this story...even if it does take more then the half a year that I planned it would...stupid work and school always getting in the way.OMG you can read my mind,LOL. And I hope you forgive me, it's only been two weeks not a month... I hope to cut it down to one again.Yes blasphamy6669 is the best but now fanfic is now cooperating with me...Whoot!

blasphamy6669: Aw shucks why didn't I think about that? Definitely a good way to get Cameron out of the room, LOL.

elfmaiden4legs: Why thankyou and I'm updating as my schedule allows. (sad face)

felixgirl: Lol, don't worry bout it. You should see me on msn when I aim to annoy. Although in your case it's not annoying it's provoking me to write another chapter, Lol.

SuperSquash: Because I can MWHAHAHAHA and don't you just love it when you get to read more at a time...I should consider splurging more on the story.

Dying Angel1: (Huggles back)


	21. Annoyance

Shadowed Guilt: Chapter Twenty One Annoyance

A black derby hat was pulled low over his face. The overcoat flapped open as it was assaulted with the wind. On any other occasion House would've made some witty remark about some S&M pornographic movie, but today seemed to be the day for a lack of words. Instead he settled for staring straight at the man's shadowed eyes, House could feel Chase trembling off to one side, but now was not the time to worry about his co-worker. House stood up stiffly and tried to pit his 6'2" frame against the other man's 6'5"; he fell horribly short considering House never could for the life of him straighten his bum leg. The silence was broken as the other man let out an amused chuckle, "Dr House." he drawled in his charismatic way, "Such vulgar language you use these days."

House found his voice, "Such irony isn't it. Vogler. Vulgar." the corner's of his mouth turned up, "It almost rhymes."

"I would be careful if I were you, Dr House." Vogler warned, "You're not the one with the gun."

The gun Vogler withdrew from his coat was a Smith & Wesson .38 and he had the biggest smirk in history on his face. "It's fully loaded with dum-dums...bullets that I have personally crosshatched to expose the lead. If you're interested, I frankly don't think killing annoyances with a hollow points was enough."

House blanched. Since the invention of Google, he had spent his days without the technology of an iPod and/or Gameboy by surfing the web for discrete and interesting facts. He knew enough about dum-dums to know that they were illegal and coupled with the hollow points, he might as well say goodbye to his handsome face as it was. "Well to say the least, I'm very flattered that you would go to such lengths to get rid of me."

"Get rid of you?" Vogler laughed, "It wasn't my intention to come up here and point a gun at your head today, but since you're up here already. I'd like to think of it as a side benefit."

House blinked, "Then why did you come up here if it wasn't for me?" he fluttered his eyelashes, but Vogler ignored him.

"Not everything in the world evolves around you."

"Of course. I forgot. It evolves around the great Mister Edward Vogler." House mocked saluted.

The other man's hand tightened over the trigger which was still staying level with House's forehead, "You forget yourself, Dr House."

"You know you can drop the verbal formalities already." House muttered.

Vogler switched his gun onto Chase who was sitting, wide-eyed on the ledge, "Dr Chase, you just stay put as I deal with this nuance here."

House turned; he had nearly forgotten Chase had been sitting there for the lack of noise coming from Chase's slightly open mouth. Seeing that Chase had not reacted to the hint of House dieing in the next few minutes, House predictably got huffy. He limped over and tapped Chase on the head, "I'm about to die and you have nothing to say? Tears? No? Why you ungrateful little-" he growled.

Vogler interrupted him by laughing heartily, "Please Dr House, you might scare him."

Scowling, House tapped Chase on the nose, "Of all the times to zone out, it has to be now."

"Trust me." Vogler walked over, "I don't think it's intentional."

"What's wrong with you?" House hissed into Chase's ear and shook him.

"I don't think you're suppose to do that with patient's in shock." Vogler drawled.

"And if you hadn't hauled your fat ass...yes FAT!" House declared, "He wouldn't be in shock right now would he? So solve the problem by disappearing right now."

Vogler tsked at him, "My, my. Aren't we demanding today?"

"I tend to get testy when I'm freezing my digits off and somebody is pointing a gun at me and my co-worker." House shot back.

To House's annoyance Vogler tsked and shot off his gun. Granted that the gun was aimed high over their heads, but Chase's eyes widened until they were size of saucers. House made a grab for him as Chase jumped three feet in the air. House cursed as Chase bent over massaging his temples and mumbled rapidly under his breath. "What the hell are you thinking?" House snapped at Vogler.

"Not all wounds created from a gun are purely physical." Vogler said loftily.

"What?" House muttered to himself before saying loudly, "Not you too. I'm suppose to be the one giving out cryptic messages, it's my signature."

Vogler sighed, "Up you get and bring the whimpering brat with you."

"I doubt Chase would object to being called a child." House said offhandedly.

"I don't hear him protesting. Go." Vogler accented the last word with a jab to House's back.

"You're seriously going to flash that gun around the hospital?" House asked, "Even those incompetent people working in security can take you."

Vogler leaned down, "That's what...minions...are for."

"Oh come on." House whined as he stepped into the warmth, "Are you stealing all my lines?"

"Dr House."

House's head snapped to his right to see a sharply dressed woman. She adjusted her wire rimmed glasses and looked at him overtop of them, House immediately felt like he was a little kid caught with one hand in the cookie jar. He quickly shook the sensation off and glared down at her barely five foot stature, "Do I know you?" he asked.

"Dr House," this time his name came from Vogler, "Dr Chase. Meet my new assistance, Jessica Wynn."

"And what a fine piece of ass she is." House couldn't stop from remarking as he noted the fine elven like features hidden behind the glasses and the shoddily cut hair.

She turned and gestured at the corner, "Dr Chase. I believe you'll find those clothes adequate of your frame. Please change, you look cold."

"What is this?" House asked testily, "Some sort of fashion party?"

"No. Although I must say that Dr Chase is better dressed then usual." Vogler remarked.

As if on cue, Chase appeared wearing black slacks, a black suit jacket, and a deep blue dress shirt that had yet to be tucked in. "Quite dashing. Don't you think?" Wynn asked, "Although the hair must go." she reached up to finger the long blonde strands, "Too unkempt and I'm sure anybody paying attention will know it's Dr Chase."

"You're seriously making me declaring this day the worst day of my life...aren't you?" House growled, "Now who's hair will I pull when they're asleep?"

"Kneel." Wynn ordered up at Chase, who complied slowly.

"Traitor. Should've never trained him so well." House grumbled, but inside he was more then just a bit worried. Chase had neither protested to stripping or losing his prized silken gold hair.

She gripped the shoulder length hair and twisted it back, "Do you have a knife, sir?" she asked without looking up.

A small paring knife appeared in Vogler's large hands, which swiftly disappeared into Wynn's small ones. She pulled hard, House winced sympathetically as Chase's eyes watered slightly. Wynn brought the small blade down on the twisted locks and started sawing away, House had to give her credit for not spoiling the dark suit with loose hair as she finished. Wynn let the loose strands fall in a neat little pile on the floor and sighed, "It'll do for now."

House internally winced as he saw the shortened locks; Wynn had taken approximately three inches from the back and Chase's bangs were still as long as before, which were now obscuring his view of the world once again. Wynn tucked the paring knife into Vogler's coat, "We'll get somebody to clean it up later." she fanned the now stifling air around, "Dr House, I believe you'll have to shave."

House instinctively raised a hand to pat the three day old stubble he had going on, "But...but...but...it's my fashion trend."

Wynn tapped the razor she had magically pulled out of her pockets on the wall beside her, "It's either you do it yourself or we do it forcefully...ah...and may I even throw in an hypothetical situation that the razor might slip and take off some of your already receding hairline?"

Scowling, House grabbed the razor. Wynn nodded like he was a prized dog who had just fetched the ball for her, "Mister Vogler will escort you to the nearest washroom." she glanced at him with a glare, "If you try to disarm Mister Vogler in any way, shape or form...you can say goodbye to one of your employees...or should I say ex-employee." Wynn held a standard nine-mil to Chase's head.

Disgusted, House scoffed, "Very mafia like."

Vogler smirked, "I have never employed the services of the mafia. I'm more a hands on kind of guy."

He glared at Vogler with a raised eyebrow, "Yeah whatever. If you'll excuse me, I'm going to once again waste half an hour getting down those damn stairs."

Vogler snapped his fingers together, was it just House or did it seem a little too cliche as tall, muscular men wearing suits appeared out of nowhere at Vogler's beck and call. There were only two, but even one was intimidating by himself. They both had nondescript faces hidden behind shades, an ear phone stuck in the right ear, and were clean shaven, but looked shady at best. House felt his jaw drop and his eyebrows winning the world record for highest raised eyebrows ever, "You have got to be kidding me." he said with an accent on every word.

"No." Chase replied for the first time since Vogler had dragged them inside, "These men were trained in the art of kendo..."

"Ah...the game which people use big sticks to fight with." House said.

"...wrestling..." Chase continued, seemingly unbothered by House's interruption.

"Manly love." House pretended to swoon.

"...boxing..."

"Ohlala." House couldn't help but put on a high falsetto.

"...and the conclusion is; if you happen to somehow...idiotically...piss them off, then you might as well say goodbye to your bodily functions right now..." Chase continued as if this was a well rehearsed play.

House fanned himself and laughed recklessly, "They're probably just clumsy giants that were hired by Vogler to scare people off." House held up his cane, "Nobody can beat the Master of the Cane!"

Chase straightened and brushed imaginary specks of dust off of his suit and joined in on Vogler's and Wynn's looks of exasperation. Vogler tipped his head at the men and they both swooped down and scooped House up and proceeded to manhandle him down the stairs. "So much for the cane wielding master." Vogler said and proceeded down the stairs with Wynn and Chase in tow.

At the bottom the two giants put House back safely on his feet, but in true House-ian style he had to make a big deal out of it. Sighing, the rest of Vogler's entourage tuned House out and would occasionally pick out words like, "...no respect...manhandling...bastards..." it would continue until Vogler smoked him on the back of his head with the butt of his gun.

To House's credit, he didn't keel over and pass out. Rubbing the sore spot on the top of his head, he gave his best glare of doom at Vogler, "Ow."

Vogler sighed and poked him with the gun, "Just. Go. Shave. Already." it seemed like he too was getting tired of House's antics.

The vein under House's left eye twitched. Chase cocked his head to one side and pointed it out, "Are you getting angry already?" he closed his eyes and let a small smile play upon his lips, "Think it's time to take Cuddy up on that offer? You know the one where she'll pay your therapist fees with a bake sale?"

House rounded on Chase and glared at him, "Aren't you suppose to be in shock or something?"

Chase blinked, "I don't know what you mean."

He bent down and grabbed one of Chase's shorn locks, "So what's this sudden personality change? Trying to please the master? Still?"

Slapping House's hands away, Chase clenched a fist and tried to control his withdrawal tremors, "They'll kill us both anyways." he muttered under his breath.

"What?" House could hardly believe his ears, "What did you say?" he hissed and shook Chase.

He shook House off and firmly pushed the cane wielding man in the direction of the men's bathroom and hoarsely whispered, "Do not make them angry."

To say the least, House was a little more then freaked out as he was dragged into the men's bathroom by the two giants.

oOoOo

A/N: I'm sorry, this chapter was suppose to come out dark... I guess that's what happens when I'm all full of watching Ouran High School Host Club and reading Nora Roberts/JD Robb books. This chapter sucked out loud...I'm sorry. I'm not feeling my best. At work I accidentily place my arm near the grill. Now it's all red, starting to blister, and it smarts every time I forget and use my right arm. Urgh...my own stupidity (head/desk)

elfmaiden4legs: Thankz hun (huggles)

Dying Angel1: (Sniffle) You hurt my feelings, but blame the bunny. It's the bunny's fault.

Merlin71: (Happy smile) Chase torture, you can not get away from it.

felixgirl: (Stares openly)

blasphamy6669: Sorry I procrastinate all too much

Reviews please (winning smile) they make my day.


End file.
